Exile
by Alice R. Llewelyn
Summary: After the battle of Hogwarts, those in alliance with Voldemort are sent to Azkaban or put on probation. Draco Malfoy and his family are stripped of everything they have, forced to live in poverty and shame. One day Draco gets in trouble with the ministry and is sentenced to exile to the muggle world, with no one but Hermione Granger (in disguise) to make sure he doesn't escape.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** I had the idea for this story for a while now, and I literally just finished this chapter but I wanted to publish it to see if anyone liked it so far! It's my first shot at writing with third person omnicient so I hope everything is clear and understood. If it isn't just shoot me any thoughts/concerns/criticisms in a review or a message and I'll gladly fix it!

Keep in mind also as this story hasn't been written AT ALL so far, that I might not update as quickly as you might wish. I have college exams and school to focus on too, but I will try and find the time to write as much as I can.

DISCLAIMER: The characters used in this story as well as the settings that take place in the wizarding world all belong to the lovely JK Rowling. I do not intend to steal or profit from her characters and places. The plot however is the only thing that's mine. This disclaimer applies to all installments of _Exile_. I do not profit from this story in any way.

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_Exile _Chapter One

It was barely a year after the Battle of Hogwarts. Barely a year after that fateful day, where Harry Potter triumphed over Lord Voldemort, the most powerful dark wizard of his time. It was a time of rejoicing, and triumph, but also a time of mourning, for those who had given their lives would never see the beginning of a Voldemort-free world. It was also a time of escaping. Many who were still loyal to their Dark Lord quickly turned and fled, fearful for their lives, and sorrowful for the loss of their master. Then there were those who were in the middle: families like the Malfoy family, were torn between right and wrong, dark and light. They were not joyful, or sorrowful. They only felt fear, and uncertainty. What was to become of them? What was to become of those few whose mind and heart were torn between good and evil?

Immediately following the war, the wizarding world quickly established a new and uncorrupted Ministry for Magic, with Kingsley Shacklebolt as their Minister. Under his authority the ministry captured the escaping Death Eaters, including those like the Malfoys, who were on the fence, and brought them into the ministry for a trial. The trials were relatively quick. Most Death Eaters, in their cowardice, claimed to be under the Imperius Curse, and claimed their allegiance to the Minister and Harry Potter. The Ministry of Magic had a mass brewing of Veritaserum in order to seek out the truth, and those Death Eaters were put to jail. Very few Death Eaters stayed loyal to Lord Voldemort after his death.

In the case of the Malfoy family and those like them, the trials were lengthier. No one argued the fate of Lucius Malfoy. Although toward the end of the war he wished for the defeat of Voldemort, he was clearly in alliance with him, and had done nothing to show his desire to switch sides. Lucius Malfoy was immediately sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban. However, the question lied on Draco and Narcissa Malfoy: Guilty, or Innocent? There had been a huge public scandal over the public's desired outcome for the trial. Newspapers everywhere were including the Malfoys on their front covers with headlines such as _The Malfoy Trials: Secret Potter Lovers, or Liars? _and _Malfoy Trials: Innocence Is Not Something They Can Buy_.

The Malfoy family did try and buy their innocence by bribing the wizengamot, but for the first time, no one would listen. The Malfoys had been losing their influence and power since Lucius was caught in the Ministry in the Department of Mysteries, but this was an all-time low for them. The only factors that could save them were the fact that Narcissa Malfoy had lied to Voldemort about Harry's death, thus allowing Harry to kill Voldemort, and the fact that Draco Malfoy had been reluctant to kill Dumbledore. However, many were still not convinced. The scandal went on for months, and finally a sentence was reached. Narcissa and Draco Malfoy would not go to Azkaban, but they would be on probation for five years. During that time they were ordered to wear a thick silver bracelet, which restricted their use of magic to any magic that did not cause anyone harm and was used for practical purposes. The bracelet also alerted the ministry about the wearer's constant whereabouts. They were not allowed to leave the country, or visit the prisons in case of conspiracy unless under constant ministry surveillance.

Heads bowed in defeat, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy extended their right arms and felt the cold hard metal against their wrists. At that moment, they were forever stripped of everything. Wearing the bracelet was a huge dishonor. They felt betrayed by their own kind, a kind of wizards and witches that shamed the pure blooded and accepted the mud blooded. To the public, the silver bracelets were a symbol of the war, and the wearer's alliance to Voldemort.

Narcissa and Draco were allowed to keep their manor, however most of their possessions were sold off to pay for fines, and to keep food on the table. Both were allowed to work, however no witch or wizard wanted to employ them due to their reputation. Employers did not want their business to earn a bad reputation by employing former Death Eaters, whether innocent or guilty. Most businesses even forbid anyone wearing that despicable silver bracelet to even enter their store, or buy anything. The wizarding world had completely turned their back on the pure-blood supremacists.

Draco Malfoy walked out of his cold, ancestral manor that morning with complete dread in his heart. Dread of being in public, dread of being recognized, dread of being antagonized and ridiculed. But there was nothing to eat. There hadn't been anything to eat for three days. They had put off buying food for three days, because of the dreadful place that was the outside world. Draco Malfoy was surprised he and his mother even lasted that long without a meal. It was the first time a Malfoy had been forced into starvation.

Draco put his hood up, pulling it as far as he could over his face and obscuring as much of his blond hair as possible. He longed for the times where he could walk down to the Leaky Cauldron with his father by his side, his head high and proud, and watch the crowd part in his wake and cower in fear of his name. Now he walked with his head bent low, trying to hide his face as much as he could for fear of public humiliation. Everyone snickered and pointed, and little children would hide behind their parents because those parents had taught their children that the silver bracelet was a sign of a bad person.

How the times had changed.

Draco Malfoy pulled his robe's sleeve over his bracelet, but the bracelet was so big and bulky that it was no use. Everyone knew he wore a bracelet even if it wasn't shown, thanks to the newspapers. He hadn't even the luxury of privacy, as the other families sentenced to wear the bracelet. No one paid attention to them, they were just shunned. But the Malfoys were ridiculed. _At least it isn't mother in my place, _Draco thought to himself as he entered the Leaky Cauldron, and several wizards scowled at him. Draco didn't want to think of what would happen if his mother was outside, alone and unable to defend herself, because the bracelet restricted them from magic that could be used in their defense. He ignored the wizards because that's what he did every time he went out, and silently made his way to the back of the pub toward Diagon Alley.

Draco tapped the proper bricks with his wand—his now useless wand—and the entrance to Diagon Alley appeared. It was very early Sunday morning. Draco supposed it wouldn't be too crowded. The majority of the wizarding population shouldn't be up for another hour. The fewer people the better.

Draco looked to his right and saw the entrance to Knockturn Alley, another shopping location that branched off of Diagon Alley. It had been completely boarded up and the public was forbidden to enter. Anything close to dark magic was feared, and anyone so much as suspected for being involved with the dark arts was sent in for questioning. The ministry was quite paranoid. Draco pulled his hood father down his face, head bowed, and continued walking, angrily wishing things returned to how they used to be.

He went in the first store he saw, but as soon as he so much as set foot inside the cashier gasped and yelled at him.

"Ge' outta ma store ye filthy Death Eater! Scum! Don' eva set foot here again ye hear?!"

Draco didn't argue. He simply turned around and exited the store. He knew better by now. The first time he had been treated like this it had been a major shock. He was used to being bowed to upon entering a store, and treated like royalty, given the best bargains and best products the store had to offer. When one went from that treatment to being treated worse than a dog it didn't sit well for him. But he learned well the first time, after he had stood his ground and argued. The store manager cursed him so badly he had been in bed for days, barely able to make it home. The laugher of the crowd as he struggled to hide the effects of the curse haunted him days after the incident. Since then he simply turned around and tried elsewhere.

And try elsewhere he did. Draco set foot inside with hesitation, hiding his bracelet and face as best as he could. It was a bakery, filled with the most delicious and enticing smells, which filled his nostrils and sent his hungry and starving stomach on frenzy. Draco almost moaned with yearning. Clutching his stomach he grabbed the first thing his hand touched—cinnamon rolls—and grabbed four. He had two galleons in his pocket. Just enough. Draco's heart sped up and his mouth watered with anticipation. He was having better luck today, and for that he was extremely gratified. He quietly got in the line and thanked Merlin it was short—only two people ahead of him. He sneaked a peek at his hands, making sure the money was in his left hand so that he wouldn't risk exposing the bracelet to the cashier. He hoped the cashier wouldn't recognize his face, or bother to find out who he was, as his face was hidden. His stomach growled in anticipation.

"Next in line, please?" The cashier announced. One more person ahead of him. Draco licked his lips. He imagined how pleased his mother would be to eat a cinnamon roll. "Have a good day!" The cashier told the wizard in front of him. "Next?"

Draco stepped up and carefully placed the four cinnamon buns on the counter, pretending not to look up because he was busy looking at something on the floor. His heart pounded in his chest. _Pleasepleasepleaseplease, _he thought madly, shifting his weight impatiently. But he sensed the cashier's hesitation. The cashier, having suspected him for what he was as soon as he had gotten in line, eyed the hooded man with great mistrust. She despised people like him.

"Show me your right hand." The cashier commanded. Having foreseen this, Draco pulled back his right sleeve; at the same time pulling up the bracelet as far as it would go. It wasn't much, Draco could only show barely half of his wrist but he prayed it was enough. Little did Draco know, the cashier had seen this trick before. The cashier had no patience for these people. She wanted him to leave. "Get out of the store." She said harshly.

"I showed you my wrist I'm not wearing it." Draco retorted with clenched teeth. He wanted nothing more than to hurl insults at her. The thought crossed his mind to simply take the baked goods and run, but he knew well that the ministry would know of his whereabouts and that would be a strike on his five year probation.

The cashier angrily eyed the pureblood scum. He was holding up her line, and she would not have that.

"Get out of this store, or I will call the ministry." She said, uttering each word slowly and with force.

"I have money to pay for it. Look, I can pay for it." Draco said, attempting to reason with the woman.

Behind him, there was a long line of people beginning to form, looking at the hooded wizard with impatience, checking their watches. Only one person in line did not wear an expression of impatience: Hermione Granger. She looked rather curiously to the man who was trying to pay for something she couldn't see. As she overheard him arguing with the female cashier, she realized the identity of the hooded wizard by his voice. A voice that had once sparked anger within her, and always had a snooty drawl to it, but not anymore.

"Hey. Idiot. You're holding the line up, get out of the store." The wizard in front of Hermione yelled at the hooded wizard, Draco. Draco simply scrunched his eyes in frustration. He blocked out everyone who was behind him and focused solely on the cashier. He was desperately hungry, he would do anything to walk out with those cinnamon rolls.

"Please, ma'am. I'm starving. I can pay for it, just please." Draco said softly, not wishing anyone to overhear. He never pleaded. Not to anyone ever. He felt what little pride and dignity he had left diminish with each word, but he was oh so hungry.

The cashier, frustrated and done with this Voldemort sympathizer, pulled out her wand. Draco immediately grabbed his two galleons, and walked out as quickly as possible. He didn't want to be made fun of. He didn't want to be cursed. No matter how much his world had taken away from him, he was still a Malfoy. He had to do everything he could to preserve what he could of his name.

Unseen by Draco Malfoy, Hermione watched him walk out of the store empty handed, clutching his stomach. She felt slightly sorry for the guy. She estimated he was eighteen or nineteen by now, and already struggling for food and a place in society. A part of her told her that it served him right for everything he had gotten into and everything he did. But did he have a choice? Everyone had a choice, but Hermione felt that perhaps Malfoy had put his priorities in the wrong place and landed him where he was. _But no one should ever go hungry, no matter who they are._ Hermione thought to herself with certainty. She moved up in line, clutching her pumpkin juice and bagel. People like Malfoy were sentenced to a sad life of ridicule and lack of food, as they could not get a job. They were allowed to work, but no one ever wished to employ them. Hermione entertained the idea of perhaps creating jobs especially for those wearing the bracelet. Perhaps then they could manage. Even then buying products was sometimes denied to them, like Malfoy just was.

"Next?" the cashier said, and Hermione stepped up to the counter, placing her pumpkin juice and bagel on the counter. Four cinnamon rolls were there, and Hermione guessed it was what Malfoy had tried to buy.

"Will that be all?" The cashier asked her.

"Let me have those rolls, please." Hermione replied, searching for extra money in her wallet.

Outside, Draco once again pulled his hood over his hair and eyes, as the hood always fell back a couple inches. He was hungrier than ever as he wondered empty handed down Diagon Alley. He had been so close. He remembered the enticing smells, the feel of the warm dough in his hand… the prospect of greeting his mother with fresh food. His mouth watered once more and Draco swallowed hard. In a span of twenty minutes, he had tried four more stores without any luck. No one wanted to sell to someone like him. He refused to sink so low as to search the trash cans. A Malfoy never dug through trash. That was something he was adamant about. But as his stomach rumbled he considered breaking that rule.

Thankfully, at that moment Hermione Granger spotted Draco Malfoy, unknown to Draco Malfoy himself, and began walking toward him with his cinnamon rolls. She was slightly nervous. She didn't like the thought of seeing him, not because she despised him or because she was shy. The only reason was because she was too modest. She didn't want to be in front of Malfoy, flaunting her well off life and status while his had dropped so dramatically. She was being selfless, actually.

Draco walked, his eyes roaming around, staring at the food that lay within the stores and avoiding the eyes and glares of the public. He felt someone tap him on the shoulder and he froze, afraid that someone had come to taunt him, or pick a fight with him. It wouldn't be the first time. However to his surprise and sheer embarrassment, he found himself face to face with Harry Potter's best friend, Hermione Granger. Dread replaced hunger at that point. He couldn't even look her in the eye.

"Um. I saw you try to buy this and well, here you go." The Granger girl told him awkwardly. He clenched his jaw. His bracelet became heavy on his wrist. How pitiful he must look to her. How proud she must feel right now. Unbeknown to Draco, pride was not one of the things Hermione Granger felt. She extended her hands, holding two rolls in each. Draco wanted nothing more than to take them, but his pride and ego held him.

Draco Malfoy was quite immature. He still retained many mannerisms that he had during his years in Hogwarts, which wasn't surprising considering his seventh year had only finished less than a year ago. When it came to Granger, Potter, Weasley, and a couple others, he unconsciously refused to appear weak and needy in front of them. He still wished to retain his strut and regality he had when it came to them.

"I don't need your pity, Granger." Draco spat at the witch, glad to see her taken aback. "I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself."

The fact that Draco Malfoy spat at Hermione didn't offend her at all. In fact, she pitied him. She knew perfectly well that his words were the only things he could defend himself with. It was the only thing he had. Even so, it did not excuse the fact that Hermione didn't want to deal with it.

"You can drop the façade, Malfoy; I know you weren't able to buy these. Just take them and forget this happened." Hermione said, attempting to reason with him. She could only imagine what his life was like. Perhaps his winters were cold, and every day was a dreadful one. He couldn't even look her in the eye, that's how bad it was for him. She didn't understand his problem. She had bought food for the other witches and wizards wearing the silver bracelet, and they had practically snatched her hands along with the food. Why was he, despite his hunger, so reluctant?

"Who do you think I am, Granger? I don't go about pretending for anything. Quit trying to act high and mighty by doing your good deeds because I am not in need of it." Draco retorted, adding in his head, _stop performing good deeds in order to demean my existence._ But no matter what his words expressed, his eyes continually eyed the cinnamon rolls, and a complete yearning to grab them and sink his teeth into them fought back. He was waging a war within himself: To accept, or not to accept? Accepting would come with a price, and that price was his dignity, or at least the dignity he had pretended to have. Not accepting meant hunger, and another day of starving. Not that four cinnamon rolls would satisfy both he and his mother, but it was something.

"Fine." Hermione said, reaching the conclusion of what she was going to do. She knew Malfoy wouldn't take the rolls from her, no matter how much he wanted them. So she tried a different option. "I'll just leave these here." She sent the cinnamon rolls on a nearby bench. "Take them if you want, I don't care." And with that, Hermione Granger walked away, knowing full well that Malfoy would wait until she was out of sight, and grab the baked goods.

Draco did in fact wait until he saw her no more. He felt she had just given up, and placed the food somewhere in frustration and anger because she didn't succeed in embarrassing him. Draco grabbed the buns, a fire igniting in his stomach, and walked away with them under his robe. He felt he had won in his small battle of dignity against her, all because he never accepted the food. He had instead made her walk away in frustration.

How pleased his mother would be once he got home.

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A/N: I hope you all like it so far! I'm currently working on chapter two so expect that soon. If you'd like to leave a review, please please do so! It means a bunch and makes me wanna write more! Suggestions, comments, questions, and criticisms are always welcome! Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: _Second chapter whoo! hope you all enjoy!

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_Exile _Chapter Two

Occasionally, Draco Malfoy would be accompanied by his mother on his venture to find food and a job. At first, Narcissa Malfoy had fought to retain as much Malfoy pride as she could, for herself, her son, and her husband. For a time she and her son walked with their heads defiant, seldom leaving the manor and brooding about the unforgiving world that lay outside. Their fortune had eventually run out, and Narcissa had to eventually come to the conclusion that if they were to survive, they would need to work, and interact with the outside world. Work was not a word that seemed inviting to the two remaining Malfoys. Narcissa had a hard time coming to the conclusion and accepting it. It was soon decided Draco should go out and work. It was Draco's decision; he didn't want to see his mother sink so low. His goal was for his mother to live with as much dignity as possible. And so the Malfoys ventured into their new cruel, hard world to find an occupation and food. But it never came. Draco Malfoy became angry, and resentful. The ministry allowed them to work, yet no one wished to employ them, nor had the ministry created any occupation for those wearing the bracelet. It was unfair. It was cruel.

"Stay close, mother." Draco softly warned his mother as they entered Diagon Alley. Draco was nervous when he visited Diagon Alley on his own, but with his mother, his nerves increased tenfold. He not only had to look out for himself, but another person as well. It wasn't that his mother was a defenseless, weak human being, but it was Draco's worry that someone would attack her, and take advantage of her, as he had seen others do to those wearing the silver bracelets. Even he himself had been taunted an attacked. No one bothered to do anything to help him, he had to defend himself however he could. His mother was the only one he had left, and he intended to look out for her.

Narcissa Malfoy in turn walked closer to her eighteen year old son's side. She had always had a close and affectionate relationship with her son, and it consoled her to know that he looked out for her, even if she didn't need to be looked after. Narcissa herself was in much despair, having to live with the fact that her loving husband was locked away in a cell in Azkaban, and the current state of her situation. Despite being a snooty and haughty person who despised muggleborns with a passion, she regretted allowing Lucius to join forces with the Dark Lord because of what it did to her family. To the Malfoys, family was everything.

Both Malfoys walked down Diagon Alley, their heads bowed and the hoods of their simple black robes pulled over their faces, trying not to attract attention from the crowd. Despite their attempts, they always did. Draco watched forward, watching the street from under his hood. His eyes scanned the stores, searching for somewhere where he and his mother might have the slightest chance of getting employment. Narcissa, walking beside him intended to do the same, but her gaze was caught on the mother, father and children happily walking with a plethora of shopping bags. That had been them, years ago.

"Draco, look there." Narcissa said, having pried her eyes away from the family and caught the sign of a very low quality restaurant. She placed her left hand upon her son's arm, stopping him.

Draco turned and looked to where his mother's gaze was directed. The establishment seemed suitable enough. Perhaps they could work in the kitchens, unseen by the restaurant customers. Draco Malfoy turned to his mother, lifting his hood up just enough to see her expression. With one look, it was decided they would give it a try. Besides, they had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

They approached the restaurant, if it should even be considered a restaurant in Draco's opinion, and stepped in just as two witches were heading out. The two witches, two women in their mid-twenties, caught a glimpse of the bracelet wearer's faces and stepped as far away from them as possible, not bothering to suppress their giggles and demeaning opinions.

"Not so high and mighty now, are you? Filthy Malfoy Death Eaters." One of the witches said.

Draco's fist automatically tightened, but he closed his eyes and flared his nostrils, in an attempt to channel his anger elsewhere. He didn't want to get so angry that he performed accidental magic, like the uncontrollable magic young wizards often made before the age of eleven. If the Ministry caught wind of the fact that he accidentally attacked an "innocent" citizen he would be chucked into Azkaban for sure. And then what would his mother do without him? Narcissa, sensing her only son's anger, carefully placed her hand over his fist, telling him with one simple touch to calm down, that it wasn't worth it. She herself was so beaten down; she was past the point of being angry with the public's taunts.

Mother and son walked away from the witches, stepping inside the restaurant. The sneers and scowls they received did not go unnoticed by the Malfoys. A female witch, who happened to be manning the register, looked up just in time to see the Malfoys, although she did not know their identity, walk toward her with their hoods covering much of their faces. She observed that one had a lock of long blond hair peeking from the owner's robe, making the witch assume the identity of one as female. She assumed the other was male by the broadness of his shoulders and his square yet somehow beaten down posture. They approached her, and the male pushed back his hood just enough to reveal his entire face. She recognized the male as one of the Malfoys; she had seen his picture sprawled on the front page of various newspapers and magazines.

"We would like to speak to the owner of this restaurant." The Malfoy boy told the witch. His voice was an attempt at an authoritative tone, but it sounded too reluctant and hopeless to come across as such. The witch smiled in acknowledgement of the young Malfoy's question. She knew they wore the silver bracelet, yet unlike others she did not think it fair how they were being treated by the public. Too many a time had she seen those wearing the bracelet being turned down by everyone, just because of their past mistakes. She believed many wearing the bracelet learned their lesson. It was time to trust them. The smile she had given Draco Malfoy took him aback. The witch immediately struck him as different from the rest, for obvious reasons. He began to feel slightly appreciative of her, because she hadn't sneered at them and sent them out. She _smiled_, and obliged to their request. Draco silently thanked her. He rarely thanked anyone.

Two minutes later the owner came from behind a door. He was an old man with an impatient expression about him. He regarded the Malfoys with suspicion.

"My daughter says you'd like to speak to me." The old man told them, looking past them to survey his customers, some of which were staring curiously. If word got out that his restaurant entertained Death Eaters he would lose profits. The only reason he was entertaining their company right now was because his daughter had pleaded with him to be understanding. He promised he would try.

Draco and Narcissa, on the other hand, were trying not to get too hopeful. The fact that they had gone this far spoke volumes, but one little thing could ruin everything. Both of their hearts raced, and Narcissa nudged her son slightly, designating him to be the speaker. When Draco spoke his tone was polite, and respectful. It reminded Narcissa of how her son would speak to Lucius, except when Draco was addressing his father there was admiration involved as well.

"Yes, sir. We would like to know if it is possible for us to acquire a job here."

Feeling uneasy and hesitant, the old man wiped sweat from his balding head. He looked at his daughter, whose face was hopeful. The old man sighed in resignation.

"You can work in the kitchen, out of sight. Come back around closing for the details." The old man said, to Draco's relief and surprise. He fought to control his face, keeping it passive and indifferent. Narcissa's heart lifted. They would finally have a source of income.

"Thank you, sir." Draco said, nodding appreciatively to the old man and his daughter. Narcissa also gave her thanks, and both Malfoys lifted their hoods over their eyes and quickly walked out of the store. They wanted to leave before the old man changed his mind.

The Malfoys now held themselves with a slightly more sense of purpose, with hope in each step. Draco thought about the old man and his daughter, coming to the conclusion that they were probably half-bloods. Half-bloods had it easy. They didn't suffer as much as mudbloods did under the Dark Lord's hand, and weren't looked down upon as much as mudbloods and blood traitors in the eyes of the pure blooded. Therefore it made them more likely to be indifferent about the whole situation.

"It's despicable that we have to go around begging and tossing around the word 'sir' just to get a job." Narcissa whispered in an undertone to her son right outside the store. Narcissa was brooding about their situation. She longed for the time where just her name alone could secure her the very best society had to offer. Out of the both of them, Narcissa had the hardest time adjusting to the new poverty filled life, as she had lived among riches from birth to mid-adulthood. Draco was not adjusted completely yet, but he had resigned to his situation.

"Just you wait, mother. Once this five year probation is over we will be able to have our birth rights returned to us, and we will be able to live the way we once were." Draco replied in a whisper. His statement to his mother was simply a fleeting hope, not entirely believed by him. It would be hard to make the world forget this point of his life. Draco looked back to the store they had just left, and caught a glimpse of the owner's daughter, attending customers.

"Move you pathetic vermin." Draco heard a male voice say, and he quickly faced to his right, in the direction of the voice. Draco's stomach dropped. About four wizards were scrutinizing him with a look of major disgust, much like Draco would look at those below him during Hogwarts. It was quite offensive to be on the receiving side. He faced the four wizards, frozen. He wanted to stay put, to show them who was really superior in terms of blood and purity, but the fear of what might happen if he didn't made him wish to move. Draco gave his mother a quick look, finding her face tight and defensive.

"Wait a minute," One of the four wizards said. Fear suddenly struck Draco, and Narcissa was filled with dread. The wizard who had spoken took one step forward. He had spotted Draco's face under his hood, and was sure that these were the Malfoys. "These are the Malfoys!" He said to his other pals. The rest of the gang snickered, while the Malfoys stayed frozen.

"Oi, how's your father doing, Malfoy?" Another wizard from the group spoke up. Anger replaced all fear and hesitation immediately for Draco Malfoy. Despite everything his father had been shamed for, he still held his father with the highest regard, and would not let anyone insult his family. His fists tightened. Narcissa became angry as well; she wanted nothing more than to hex these four wizards for daring to mention her husband in her presence.

"Don't you dare talk about my father you filthy git." Draco threatened with gritted teeth. He looked murderously at the four men, looking at each of them in the eye.

"Draco, mind your temper you don't want problems with the ministry." Narcissa warned her son in a hushed tone, very much worried. Draco heard her, but did not acknowledge her warning. He was focused on the four men in front of him.

"Defensive, are we?" Taunted the same wizard. He smiled, knowing very well the Malfoys were defenseless, and couldn't afford to do anything to him or his friends. The man had an inkling to get them in trouble, as it amused him. "Miss your daddy, don't you? You'll soon join him—"

"Don't you dare insult my family, you pretentious excuse for a wizard!" Narcissa spoke up in her son's defense, apparently forgetting her own warning. She was seething with rage, unable to believe the audacity of the men who had insulted her. She might be in a worse position, but her blood was still pure and therefore she was superior.

At this moment, many people stopped to look at what was going on with curious expressions, some even excited for some action.

"Don't _you_ dare talk to me like that, bitch. It's not my fault your poor excuse for a husband is rotting away in Azkaban finally getting what he deserves." The wizard taunted, while his three pals laughed at his words. "Hey, here's an idea: Why don't you and your coward son rot with him?"

"Draco, let's go, this isn't worth our breath and time we don't want to get into problems." Narcissa spoke to her son so only he could hear. She had regained control of her anger and had been able to ignore the insult thrown at her. A crowd had gathered round by this time, and Narcissa did not wish to attract attention. She placed a hand on her son's shoulder, turning him away, but Draco stood his ground, seething with rage. He shook his mother off. If he left now he would walk out as the defeated coward. He was not going to pollute his family name with that reputation.

Narcissa's attempt to turn her son away and her son's determination to stay where he was fueled the four wizards even more, and another wizard who had not spoken yet took the opportunity to throw another insult.

"You're an old hag, and your husband is a waste of space!" The man taunted, fueled by Draco Malfoy's anger.

Narcissa, knowing very well her son was close to doing something he would deeply regret, grabbed her son sharply by the arm and pulled.

"Draco, do not lose your head. If you hurt them it's worse for us—" Narcissa warned her son. Draco took a deep breath and came to his senses, deciding his mother was right. It wasn't worth it in the long run. He turned his body away from the wizards but he had barely taken a step when one of them insulted them yet again.

"How's it feel to be put in your place? To be treated like the filth that you are? Like father like son! And let me tell you your father, Malfoy was a coward. Your mother on the other hand, I've never seen such a filthy whore. Maybe I can catch her on the street sometime and fuck—" But the wizard did not finish. The wizard could not finish, because at that moment his jaw became completely dislocated and cracked due to Draco Malfoy's fist. Three teeth flew out of the wizard's mouth along with blood and spit.

Immediately the other wizards pulled out their wands, sending hexes and curses at Draco and his mother. Narcissa moved away, to a place where the curses weren't likely to hit her. Draco wasn't able to do the same. He avoided the hexes with much success. Draco was so furious his vision was red. His mind was only focused on the four wizards, fueling his anger even more.

Suddenly the wizards stopped firing hexes and grabbed their eyes, screaming in pain. All four pairs of eyes seemed to be burning them. Confused, Draco wondered for a split second what had happened, and almost immediately he realized exactly what. He had accidentally performed magic. His anger faded away immediately, replaced with regret, guilt and fear. He looked around at the crowd. Some were yelling insults at him, others had their wands out, and some looked around in fear. _Shit_. Draco thought. He thought of running away, but his hood had come off in the process of the small duel that had broken out and his identity had been exposed for all to see.

At that exact moment, a distance away, Hermione Granger was patrolling Diagon Alley, as it was part of her Magical Law Enforcement duty. She had occupied this job for about three months now, having already completed her missing seventh year of Hogwarts education in seven months' time. This was all possible thanks to the newly instated Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, who developed a program for those who had missed their last year of Hogwarts due to the war. After the completion of that program, which Ron Weasley and Harry Potter had decided not to take, Hermione was offered a position in the Ministry for Magic under the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She would start out as a simple Law Enforcer, the muggle equivalent to a police officer, and within a few years she was promised a higher ranking job. Eagerly, Hermione took it. It was her duty to patrol the muggle entrance to the Ministry for Magic in the mornings, and Diagon Alley in the afternoon. She had to make sure everything was in order, and report anything odd or illegal to the ministry immediately. Hermione quite enjoyed her job. It left her time to interact with people, and get a sense of what things needed to change in wizarding society, so by the time she got to her goal, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she would do the right things to better society.

While on patrol, several bangs and screams made their way into Hermione's ear. She turned toward the sound, discovering a large crowd of people a distance away, and spells flying in the air. She quickly made her way toward the concentration of people, picking up her pace when the spells stopped quite suddenly and several male screams began to be heard.

"Excuse me, Excuse me, Magical Law Enforcement, excuse me, make way please!" Hermione said, pulling out her badge and pushing past the shoulders of people once she had reached the crowd. People began to part for her, grabbing her and telling her what was going on. She caught fragments of their words, saying something like, "—Death Eater attacked those poor men—" and "He just attacked them out of nowhere!" and several things of that nature. Once she had cleared the crowd she saw four wizards, bent over moaning and wailing, grabbing their eyes, and Draco Malfoy, standing in the center of it all with a look of remorse, shock and fear.

Draco, upon hearing the crowd begin to sound restless, turned around to see Hermione Granger emerge, her face shocked, demanding to know what was going on. Fear took over Draco's body. This was it. The very thing his mother warned him about. He had ruined everything for them. He was going to Azkaban, like his father. Draco quickly looked for his mother, for a last fleeting glimpse of her, and found she had somehow managed to blend with the crowd. Hermione Granger pulled out her wand, and muttered an incantation which quickly relieved the four wizards of their ocular pain. All four of them immediately charged toward Malfoy, in complete rage, knocking him over with punches.

Hermione approached the men with her wand out, and shot a spell at them which pulled them all apart immediately. She was in an authoritative mode, and would not tolerate any violence. She turned to the crowd and began to dismiss them, telling them there was nothing to see. Reluctantly, the crowd thinned, leaving only Hermione and the five men.

"There will be _no_ fighting or dueling in the streets. Is that clear?" Hermione said to all of them.

"Miss he attacked me—"

"—had no right to punch me—"

"—came outta nowhere!—"

"—casually just walking, minding my own business when—"

"Enough." Hermione said, holding up her hand to silence them. Only Draco Malfoy had stayed silent, and had not uttered a word because fear was silencing him. With his eyes he scanned for his mother, finding her several feet away, her hood up. Only the bottom half of her face was visible, and Draco could see she was biting her lip nervously. Narcissa was in fact, nervous. Her heart was thundering, and her fists clenched and unclenched with nervousness, but she stayed where she was. She knew very well the Granger girl was of the forgiving type, and would hear her son out if need be. She did not need to intervene on his behalf just yet.

Draco saw Granger turn to the wizard he had punched and ask him what had transpired. He of course, came out with a lie, saying that he and his mates were 'casually taking a walk when this brute came out and punched' him. Granger heard all of the wizard's complaints, nodding along when necessary. Draco was on edge. She was listening to them. Would she believe them? Surely she would know it was unlike Draco Malfoy to do such things? His heart thundered. He looked at his mother, attempting to silently apologize for his actions.

Hermione Granger, having heard enough from the men, dismissed the four of them, leaving her and Draco Malfoy. The wizard whom Draco had punched fired a small hex at Draco before all of them ran away however, knocking the blond down to the ground with a groan. The wizards didn't care about doing anything in front of a ministry employee—when the officer reports an incident, they always ruled in favor of those not wearing the bracelet.

Having the wind knocked out of him, Draco attempted to get up from the ground. Narcissa ran toward her son at this time, worried for his safety. Draco felt a pair of hands on his arm, pulling him up to standing. They were Hermione Granger's hands.

"Are you all right?" She asked him, worry etched on her face.

Draco immediately pulled away from her, as if he were burned. He brushed his arm, brushing off her touch in disgust, and then giving Hermione a revolting expression.

"Don't you dare touch me, muggle!" He spat at her automatically. He immediately regretted his words however, considering the fact that Hermione had the power to send him to prison. But there was no taking it back. Hermione looked at the two Malfoys with mild shock on her face. It wasn't surprising, after all. Hermione knew Malfoy was only embarrassed at what had happened, and needed to insult someone in order to make up for the incident.

Hermione simply stood there, as Narcissa grabbed her son and turned him around, shooting her a look of loathing. Hermione couldn't believe that after everything that had happened, Malfoy was still ungrateful. Draco however, stalked off with his mother, extremely concerned and worried for his fate. Surely the muggle witch was going to report him after that. Surely the ministry would send him to prison. And what of his mother? How would she live? Draco suddenly pictured his mother walking alone in a dark deserted street, meeting the four wizards he had encountered today. He didn't want to picture it. What had the world come to? The fate of a Malfoy now rested on a mud blood's hands.

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A/N: Hope you all enjoyed it! Please leave me any thoughts in a review! I loved the ones i got so far, thank you very much to all who read, and those who reviewed!


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: _Whoop new chapter! This one is a wee bit longer than the rest! Hope you like it!

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_Exile _Chapter Three

Hermione entered work during morning in the Ministry of Magic. It was the day after the incident with Draco Malfoy and four other men, and Hermione had to report him. On her way to the head of her department, her mind tossed and turned between what she had to do, and what she wanted to do. She did not want to report Draco Malfoy. Reporting him would mean that he would be chucked into Azkaban, and Hermione would have been the sole person to put him there in the first place. She reasoned that no matter how much she strongly disliked the blond wizard, he didn't deserve that place. She knew he was only an eighteen year old boy who simply grew up among the wrong people, and made the wrong choices, if he had any choice. In Hermione's eyes Malfoy was relatively innocent compared to convicted Death Eaters. She didn't want to be the reason for his trip to Azkaban. Hermione may have had some unpopular feelings toward Draco Malfoy, but she strived to see the change and the good in people.

On the other hand, it was her duty as an employee of the ministry to report any and all problems to her department. If it were to be discovered that Hermione had not reported something to her boss, there would be serious repercussions. Hermione was aware of this, but still she doubted. She didn't want Malfoy's imprisonment on her conscience. This tug of war going on inside Hermione Granger by no means meant she was in any way friendly or sympathetic toward Draco Malfoy. She simply felt the punishment outweighed the crime.

Hermione approached Mr. Briggs, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and hesitated a minute before knocking, but eventually did it.

"Mr. Briggs, sir?" Hermione Granger peeked her head inside the door tentatively. Behind a large oak desk sat a thin and gaunt wizard of fifty five years. His face looked sour and unhappy as he poured over the large amount of parchment papers on his desk. Without looking up, he signaled with his hand for Hermione to come forth and state her business. It was not often that Miss Granger showed up in his office, but he was still slightly bothered by her presence as he had a lot to get done in such short amount of time.

Mr. Brigg's unwelcoming posture and gesture instantly made Hermione Granger more nervous than she should have been, but she proceeded forward regardless, keeping her face polite and content.

"There has been an incident and I'd like to file a report, sir." Hermione told her boss. Her voice seemed to echo in the large and handsome office. Hermione watched as Mr. Briggs placed his quill on his desk, and looked up to his employee for the first time, watching her polite face form a shy and tentative smile. He then opened a drawer on the bottom shelf of his desk and pulled out an official case file report form. He placed the form in front of him and picked up his quill once more. When he spoke, his voice was somewhat bored and raspy from his old age.

"Date of incident?"

"Thursday, November 16th." Hermione replied automatically.

"Time of incident?" Mr. Briggs repeated in monotone.

"Sometime after 2:30 in the afternoon."

"Location?"

"Diagon Alley, in front of Cursed Cauldron Restaurant."

"Parties involved?"

"Four unidentified male wizards, ages twenty to twenty-five, and Draco Malfoy, age eighteen." Hermione said. Her heart sped up, because she had in fact identified four wizards and taken down their names and information, as was the procedure. She attempted to keep her voice calm and her face straight as she watched her boss write down her information. She was never a good liar.

"You have failed to identify the people attacked? Miss Granger, are you aware it is your duty to identify any and all parties involved?" Mr. Briggs said, looking up from his papers to give her a questioning and irritated look. Hermione attempted to keep under control. She had anticipated this response from her boss, and had her answer ready.

"I am aware, but the parties apparated as soon as I showed up on premises. It was impossible to track them down." Hermione spoke quickly. It did not escape her attention that Mr. Briggs assumed that the four men she had failed to identify were attacked by Malfoy and not the other way around. When one wore the bracelet, people immediately assumed anything was their fault.

"Understood." Mr. Briggs said, finding her response adequate. "State what happened between Mr. Draco Malfoy and those he attacked."

"Actually, sir, it was the other way around. Mr. Malfoy had been walking down Diagon Alley when he was provoked by the wizards. They made Mr. Malfoy angry, and he performed accidental magic, the burning eye hex, to be specific. In retaliation the men attempted an attack on Mr. Malfoy, but I intervened and they apparated away before I could get their story." Hermione recited from memory. She attempted to look calm and serious as she looked at her boss. She had left enough truth in the story so that it wasn't a lie, but omitted the information that would definitely rule against Malfoy. Her account of the story already condemned Malfoy, but it wasn't enough to send him to Azkaban, Hermione had made sure of that.

Mr. Briggs finished his last few sentences on the report sheet, and Hermione watched anxiously, twiddling her fingers.

"Thank you Miss Granger, you may return to your duties. You will receive a court date notice shortly, and will be expected to be present during Mr. Malfoy's trial." Mr. Briggs said, dismissing Hermione without looking up from his stack of papers.

Hermione turned around and headed for the door as soon as she could, wishing nothing more than to leave the office so that she could gossip to Harry and Ron about her encounters with Draco Malfoy.

Meanwhile, at that exact moment, Draco Malfoy was pacing nervously in his study, while his mother sat upon the only chair in the room, watching him. The study was a room where Draco's father once worked, filing out ministry papers, and conspiring against wizarding society with his Death Eaters. It was a handsome and large room, once decorated with numerous books on the Dark Arts and banned forms of magic. There was once a regal crimson rug in the center of the room, giving the room an elegant and superiority to it. But all those things were no more. The numerous books that had once made their homes on the shelves had been sold, along with the carpet. A large and antique desk had been auctioned off to the wizarding public in exchange for money and food. The room now stood dark and nearly bare. The only things that remained were family heirlooms which had been passed down from Malfoy to Malfoy: Abraxas Malfoy's journal, and several family portraits that remained on the wall. Lucius Malfoy's desk chair still remained, currently occupied by Narcissa Malfoy. Both Malfoy's had adamantly refused to sell it, as it was Lucius' favorite chair.

"Your father used to get worked up like this." Narcissa Malfoy spoke after a few moments of watching Draco pace nervously. Her voice distant and nostalgic and she spoke with elegance befitting of a pure blooded witch.

Draco stopped, the thought of his father hitting him like a hammer to the heart. He did not want to think too much about his father, as it pained him to do so. In fact Draco attempted to live every day without thinking of his old man, rotting away in a cell completely alone and isolated from those who love him and hold him in high regard. Draco wanted nothing more than to break his out, but he knew it was impossible. It pained the youngest Malfoy that he couldn't even visit his father. The last time he had spoken and laid eyes on Lucius Malfoy was three days after the battle of Hogwarts, as the Aurors magically bound his father's hands and forced him out of his own home. Draco remembered attempting to retain his dignity and composure at that moment, but as soon as the doors had shut behind his father and he was alone, he dropped to the floor and cried. He remembered hearing his mother cry as well, although he would never tell her that. Any sorrowful emotions were private and should remain as such. Draco Malfoy nearly opened his mouth to snap at his mother and tell her to never mention his father again, but upon catching his mother's tired and worn out expression, he closed his mouth and resumed his silent pacing. After all, it was her husband. She missed him as much as he.

"I'm positive the mudblood Granger reported me by now. She wouldn't pass up a chance to condemn me. Then again, she might not. She's also too soft; she can't possibly live with the guilt on her conscience." Draco Malfoy thought aloud, weighing his options. Despite his attempts at being realistic, a part of him hoped that he had not been reported to the ministry. _I'm Draco Malfoy, this can't possibly happen to me._ Draco thought, knowing full well that it could happen. Two days from now, he could be locked in a cell in Azkaban. The only positive side to that was that he was closer to his father. But then, what of his mother?

"Don't trouble yourself, Draco. What will happen will happen, it is no use to you to worry about it." Narcissa replied, her voice no longer distant. Her words were laced with a sense of positivity and a desire to remain strong in front of her son, even though in the interior she was falling to pieces at the terror that lay in store for her only son.

"But we must plan, mother." Draco said, stopping with his hands intertwined behind his back. He faced his mother with hard eyes, but Narcissa knew her son was only putting on a mask. Inside he was just a scared boy, completely alone and without safety in the world. It pained her that she could not simply reach out and embrace her son, and in turn have him confide in her his true fears and worries. He was very much like Lucius in the way that Draco distanced himself from everyone in order to preserve his dignity and poise. She admired him for that. Narcissa watched her son open his mouth to speak again. "And what of you, mother?"

"What of me?" Draco's mother echoed back, indifferently. Her son did a phenomenal job caring about her, but sometimes he cared too much, especially now when he should be worrying about himself. And Draco usually did care about no one but himself, except when it came to his mother and father.

"You'll be completely alone." Draco replied, his eyebrows furrowed together in thought. "You'll be subjected to—" Draco cut himself off, because the sentence was leading him toward an idea he did not wish to think about. He once again imagined his mother walking down Diagon Alley alone, being robbed or mistreated. The thought brought anger and pain to Narcissa's son.

"I will be fine, Draco. The Nott family is in the same situation as we are, I can use them for company if need be. Your father also mentioned my childhood home is also available, since the fidelus charm broke during the war." Narcissa reassured her son, looking out the window of the study beside her and regarded the landscape outside. Narcissa remembered a time where there were white peacocks perusing their lawn, but those had to be sold off as well.

"Grimmuald Place?" Draco asked, having remembered visiting the house during his childhood. He remembered spending some time there. It was where his Aunt Bellatrix had shown him the family tree. When Draco had asked about the black circles, he remembered his aunt simply replied that those were the traitors who dishonored their name.

"Yes, remember it? That's where you had gotten your first broom." Narcissa replied, still gazing out the window at the dying flowers and overgrown grass.

"Yes, mother. But it's not protected anymore. You aren't safe there, anyone can enter."

"I was merely laying out options." Narcissa countered, facing her son with an empty expression.

Draco was in the middle of a thought when something outside of the window caught his eye. It seemed to be an owl, heading straight for the window. Draco's stomach dropped. He hoped it wasn't what he thought it was. Before he could do anything, his mother had stood up and opened the window, spotting the bird also. The bird flew in, dropped the letter into Draco's awaiting hands, and flew out. Draco spotted the address of the letter and froze, his heart in his throat. He gave his mother a quick nervous look and opened it, reading the contents of the letter:

_To Mr. Draco A. Malfoy_

_Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

_Floor Seven, Ministry of Magic_

_62442 Trinity Street, Red phone booth_

_You have been summoned to appear in court on Friday, November 17__th__, 1999 at 6:45 PM in Court Room Five. This is in regard to an attack involving yourself, Draco A. Malfoy, and four wizards, which took place November 16__th__, 1999 after 2:30PM in Diagon Alley. _

_A lawyer will be provided for you. If you are not present at this court date you will be convicted as guilty and no further hearing on your case will take place. __You may not reschedule__._

_Mr. Jonathan M. Briggs_

_Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, _

_Ministry for Magic _

Any and all glimmer of hope had diminished upon reading the first sentence. There was no chance of him coming out as innocent, and returning to his mother. Granger had done it, after all. Draco guessed she had no pity when it came to him. Draco faced down toward the letter, his eyes obscured by his white blond hair. His eyes threatened to fill with tears, but he tried to mentally distract himself to avoid showing weakness.

"Draco." His mother called softly. She knew the contents of the letter without having to read it. She felt many emotions while watching her son, from anger, to despair, to sadness, defeat, surrender, fear, and betrayal. She rose from her chair and walked to her only son, and placed a soft but cold hand on his. The touch made Draco even more sorrowful, but it brought to his attention the fact that his hands were trembling slightly. He handed the letter to his mother, who read it and then filed it inside the pocket of her robes. She was slightly startled when Draco suddenly walked out of the study, his steps quick and determined. She elected not to follow him in favor of giving him privacy. She walked to the window and looked at her deteriorating estate, allowing a few silent tears to be shed meanwhile.

A few minutes later Draco returned and Narcissa discretely erased any proof she had been crying, and turned to face her son, who was holding a small object in his hands, and studying it carefully. Draco looked at the object as if studying it for the last time, his face set and determined. It was times like these when Narcissa most admired the strength and dignity of her son despite the circumstances. The young Malfoy walked up to his mother, not looking her in the eye, and simply grabbing her left hand and placing the object in it, quickly closing her fingers against it. Narcissa felt the cold metal hit her hand, and once Draco had released her hand, she opened her fingers and gasped. She stared at her son with wide eyes which were adorned with wild wonder and astonishment.

"Absolutely not, Draco. Take this back. Don't even consider it." Draco's mother announced sternly, extending the hand containing her son's Slytherin ring toward him. It was Draco Malfoy's most expensive and prized possession. It was a ring which had been passed down to each first son of the Malfoy family who was in Slytherin, worn as a sign of pride and prestige. It had been in the family since the founding of Hogwarts, and if sold would be worth a fortune.

"Please mother." Draco said, walking to her once more and closing her hand yet again. "I don't want you to have to go out there and have to burn holes in our integrity by asking for food. Please, this will keep you fed and comfortable for years, at least until the parole is over and you are free of this cursed bracelet and reinstated to your rightful place." This moment was one of the few instances when Draco Malfoy was completely genuine his actions and intentions. His voice was nothing but sincere, and he faced his mother with complete determination, his grey eyes intent on what he was doing. Few times had his mother seen him like this, and so this came as both a shock and source of comfort. Narcissa knew her son cared about her more than any other person in his life, but how much, she never truly discovered until this moment.

Narcissa Malfoy looked down to her hands, opening them and looking at the ring, made of the purest silver for those purest of blood. The Slytherin crest stared up at her, with the emblematic green snake made of tiny green emeralds snaked around it. It was a sign of who they were, their status, their family pride, and their social status. Like most of the Malfoy heirlooms, this ring was also old, signaling that the Malfoys were not only all of those qualities, but that they had kept true to those qualities for centuries.

"Draco… this ring… it's a symbol of our very being. It's a symbol of our prestige, our heritage, and our core beliefs. You wish to sell this? It's like giving up a part of ourselves. Once it's gone we will never have it in our possession again." Narcissa warned her son in an attempt to make him see the error in his actions. She appreciated the gesture, but she couldn't ever bring herself to sell it.

"Mother we have already been stripped of everything that was once a part of us. The symbol is meaningless if we cannot be allowed to live up to it."

"This is extremely uncharacteristic of you, Draco." Was all Narcissa could reply.

Her statement was quite correct, for it was out of character for Draco Malfoy to even consider giving up such an important part of himself. It wasn't in his nature to be so selfless. A Slytherin would keep all of the possessions which were a symbol of family prestige despite how poor he or she was. The Gaunt family stood as proof of that. While their house had been falling apart and disgraced by poverty, Gaunt still had Slytherin's ring, a sign of who he was and from what riches he had come. But was Draco correct in his statement? Was the symbol rendered meaningless if the person possessing it could not live up to it? Narcissa Malfoy would argue the contrary.

The truth was Draco Malfoy had given up and was defeated. He realized defeat when he saw it, and chose to be defeated with as much dignity as he could muster. For Draco, everything was lost. His father would rot in a cell in Azkaban, and Draco would join him. His mother would starve unless he sold this ring. The job they once had the glimmer of hope of obtaining would surely be lost once this trial was published on the _Daily Prophet, _there was no denying. The Malfoys would die off, with no heir, no one to continue their legacy or path for greatness. The Malfoys would die off in poverty, stripped of all their riches and pride, and that would be that. Draco Malfoy could see no other alternative. Giving his mother his ring was Draco's last attempt at protecting his mother from the rest of the world.

Without another word, Draco Malfoy walked out of the bare study with a simple shrug of his shoulders, ignoring his mother's comment in favor of silence.

Several hours later at 6:45 the trial began. Draco Malfoy showed up alone in the court room, his hands already shackled together like a prisoner. He sat in a seat in the center of the court, not bothering to look up to the judge and the jury. He knew what his sentence was. His assigned lawyer paced in front of Draco, head down in concentration. Draco wondered why they had even bothered to assign him one.

The sound of the judge's gavel hitting upon a hard surface three times signaled the beginning of the trial. Startled, Draco Malfoy looked up at the judge. Draco recognized the judge as Harvey Thomas, as he used to work with Draco's father. Draco himself didn't quite know what to make of that. He hoped Harvey and Lucius were good friends.

"We will now begin." Judge Thomas announced. His voice echoed off the walls of the court room. "We are here on November 17th, 1999 to decide the outcome of Draco A. Malfoy, male, age eighteen. Mr. Malfoy allegedly used magic to inflict damage upon four wizards, who remain unidentified, on Thursday, November 16th, 1999 at approximately 2:30 in the afternoon. You are Draco A. Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, is that correct?" the judge directed his last question at Draco. The judge, Harvey Thomas, recognized the fact that he used to work with Draco's father, but that had no effect on him whatsoever. Thomas personally disliked Lucius while they worked together.

"Yes." Draco Malfoy replied simply, his voice not as loud or menacing as Judge Thomas's.

"Did you use magic against four male wizards on November 16th, 1999?" Asked the judge.

"Yes."

"Are you not a wearer of the ministry issued silver bracelet?"

"I am."

"Are you aware that while wearing the bracelet, you are under no circumstances allowed to perform magic that inflicts pain on others?"

"Yes."

"And you performed magic, knowingly and regardless of those restrictions?"

"Accidentally." Draco defended.

"But you did perform magic." Judge Harvey Thomas countered.

"Yes." Draco Malfoy reluctantly replied.

"We will now hear from Mr. Malfoy's lawyer." The judge announced.

Draco looked at the man whose job it was to defend him. He was extremely young, probably inexperienced. Draco groaned internally; it was just what he needed.

"Apart from being associated with the Death Eaters, my client Mr. Malfoy has no criminal records or history of violence—" Draco's lawyer began, but was soon interrupted by a member of the jury.

"And Mr. Malfoy's attempt on Dumbledore's life when he was just sixteen does not count as criminal or violent?"

"Because of his age at the time it is not considered an offense on his permanent record, no." The lawyer countered. "The magic Mr. Malfoy has performed was also accidental, meaning he could not control it. He had to have been severely provoked." The lawyer made a small nod, signaling he was finished.

Draco closed his eyes in defeat. His lawyer had done nothing for him but bring to light what he had done in the past and that did not help his case at all. Not that his case could be helped. He silently said goodbye to his mother, and his home. It was all over.

"The jury will now come to a decision—"

"Judge Thomas I would like to provide a witness account." The voice of Hermione Granger was heard, interrupting the judge mid-sentence.

Draco snapped his head in her direction, spotting her looking timid and embarrassed for interrupting the judge. Hermione had in fact been holding her tongue the entire trial, searching for the right time to provide her statement. The judge paused a moment, as if deliberating if it was even worth his time, and finally accepted, allowing Hermione to deliver her statement.

"As a witness to the events that have transpired on November 16th, 1999 I can say that Mr. Malfoy was simply a victim in the situation. The wizards whom Mr. Malfoy had attacked had been taunting him and threatening him, and even with my presence they attempted to attack him. I am aware those who break the law during their parole are sentenced to Azkaban for life, but an exception has to be made in this case. This punishment is far too much for the circumstances, and so when a decision is made please make sure it is fair." Hermione spoke with certainty and assertiveness, sure with everything she was saying. After she finished, a glimmer of hope grew within Draco Malfoy, for perhaps her statement would sway those making a decision. Perhaps his punishment wouldn't be so harsh. He imagined being sentenced to an additional five years of parole. He could live with that.

"We will take five minutes to make a decision on the fate of Mr. Malfoy. Court dismissed." Judge Thomas said, hitting his gavel twice. At once everyone stood and left the court, except Draco Malfoy. He remained seated where he was, as he had nowhere to go.

He was more nervous now than ever before, because now his future was uncertain. Upon coming in Draco had resigned to his fate, a lifetime in Azkaban. He anticipated the decision with defeat. Now everything was uncertain and uncertainty didn't sit well with him. Draco's mind wandered and he found himself wondering why Granger had spoken up in his defense. He figured she had felt guilty for reporting him and now was attempting to justify the situation so she wouldn't feel bad about herself. Draco Malfoy was not entirely incorrect on his assumption. Hermione's main reason for defending him was so that she did not have to deal with a guilty conscience, but she truly thought the punishment outweighed the crime.

Five minutes had passed, and the entire court shuffled in and took their seats. Draco couldn't help looking at each face, searching for some emotion of triumph or gloom that could foretell what his sentence would be. As he looked at each face he found them all stoic, which made his nerves increase. Soon the court was set in motion.

"Mr. Malfoy, the court has come to the decision that you will be sentenced to exile for the rest of your life in the muggle world. There will be no memory modification. Any contact with any persons in or of the wizarding world is strictly forbidden. You will arrive here tomorrow morning at 10 o'clock so we can confiscate your wand and all of your wizarding possessions. More information regarding the process of exile will be reviewed tomorrow. Take the time between now and your appointment to fix any legal business and depart from those you affiliate with. There is no appeal, that is the final decision."

Draco Malfoy's world came crashing down upon him at that very instant. His mouth grew dry, his eyes widened, his face grew pale, and his lungs seemed to have deflated. This was betrayal of the highest level. His own world had turned his back on him.

He preferred a lifetime in Azkaban.

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A/N: So that's it for now! What did you think? Leave me your thoughts and comments in a review! Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed so far! Be sure to check out my other stories if you like! Until the next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: _So sorry that this update didn't come as quickly as the other ones, but I was busy with college work and I WAS going to publish saturday but i was busy with Doctor Who and 1D Day (whoops) But hey, I got it done today so here it is! Hope you all enjoy! Did anyone watch Doctor who or 1d day btw?! god it was so awesome alskdfja;sldfj. okay anyways... voila!

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_Exile _Chapter Four

Draco Malfoy did not have much of anything to his name left, and so he had barely any legality to take care of. He had gotten home that night and broke down for the first time in front of his mother, who had expected her son to come home with a lifetime sentence to Azkaban. Narcissa had taken Draco in her arms, and he cried there for hours before he could so much as utter what his fate would be. It was a heartbreaking scene. Narcissa and Draco Malfoy were completely isolated and alone, separate from the rest of the world because of their pasts and their thoughts. In the very least they had each other, but not for long. The Malfoys, who were always mindful of their emotions and cautious about how their emotions were manifested, were now letting them run free, completely beside themselves with despair. Rarely had the Malfoys had witnessed another Malfoy break down.

Once Draco had told his mother about his sentencing she had gasped in horror. To Draco, going into exile in the muggle world was worse than death. To Narcissa, it was the worst betrayal by the hand of their own society but in the very least her son wasn't rotting in Azkaban like her poor husband.

Draco hadn't slept that night, partly because he couldn't, and partly because he didn't want to. He ventured into every room in his once handsome manor, and recalled memories and feelings that came with each room. He remembered dinner with his parents during the Christmas holidays in the dining room, reading a book by the fire in the study, taking dance lessons from a tutor in the ballroom, strolling along the gardens during the summer, and kicking his house elf dobby down the stairs at the age of four. He remembered getting his Hogwarts letter for the first time, badgering his father to buy him all kinds of sweets each time they went to Diagon Alley, he remembered strutting the halls of Hogwarts with Crabbe and Goyle, getting his wand, joining the quidditch team, going to Hogsmeade, making his first potion, his first duel… So many memories. This was the world in which he grew up, where he was raised. Where he was taught right from wrong, good from bad. Despite the ways in which his world had treated him, under his feelings of betrayal Draco Malfoy still felt a deep affection for the wizarding world. How could he be expected to leave the world of magic and wonder behind? Leave the world he had lived in for almost nineteen years?

During the night, Draco considered many things on the subject of escaping his unwanted fate. He attempted many times to remove the bracelet, and considered ending his life, but he couldn't break the bracelet nor bring himself to die. If there was one thing Draco Malfoy valued more than any materials, it was his life. He would keep on living unless his breath was forcibly taken from him.

Narcissa Malfoy did not sleep either; she stayed alongside Draco, calming him, and telling him everything will be all right. Inside she was heartbroken and scared, but she tried her best to hide her emotions for Draco's sake. Tomorrow, Draco Malfoy will be as good as dead to Narcissa. There won't be any communication, visits, and letters. She would never see her son again.

When it was time to part, Draco Malfoy hugged his mother one last time, inhaling the scent of her hair and clothes. He dropped floo powder in the fireplace and said his destination. The flames had engulfed him at once, and the last thing he ever saw of his mother was her sad and desperately longing expression.

Draco Malfoy arrived at the ministry right on time, and proceeded to the Department of Muggle Affairs with a look of contemptuous disgust and dread. His heart was heavy, and with every step he took he took in the architecture of the hall in which he was walking, as if he would never see anything more beautiful in his life. In his mind, the muggle world was akin to a pig's sty, filled with mundane, dirty, unintelligent nearly human creatures.

He approached the secretary, a young witch with dark hair and brown eyes, and told her he had an appointment. She checked her book, eyeing his bracelet with a bit of fear, and led him down the hall and into a room.

"Mrs. Schuler, Draco Malfoy is here for his appointment." The secretary witch announced.

"Come in, come in." Mrs. Schuler replied politely. Mrs. Schuler was the Head of the Department of Muggle Affairs. Draco found her to be quite a pig-like woman, plump and stocky with a nose that resembled one of a pig's. She wore bright purple robes with yellow accents. Any muggle would liken her to a human piñata. "You know why you're here?" She asked him once he had stepped into her office and shut the door. He simply nodded and she gestured to a seat in front of her desk, where Draco then sat down.

"I think it's safe to assume you've never taken a muggle studies class in Hogwarts, Mr. Malfoy?" She asked, watching him with a raised eyebrow. It was quite common knowledge that the Malfoy's were part of the circle of people who highly disliked muggles, and so upon hearing that a Malfoy was to be given information on the muggle world before his exile, Mrs. Schuler rolled her eyes and groaned. She did not like dealing with ignorant pure bloods.

"Never set foot in a muggle studies classroom." Draco Malfoys replied back, wrinkling his nose in disgust. His mind flashed to the past, where he remembered Charity Burbage, the muggle studies teacher whom Voldemort killed upon his dining room table during his seventh year of Hogwarts.

"Don't look so disgusted, that's where you'll be living for the rest of your life." Mrs. Schuler commented. "Now, let's get started. You will have an overview here, and then we will bring you to your new home where we will teach you to get around there." She paused, bending over to open her bottom most drawer, where she pulled out a thick, book-like manual. She handed it to Draco, who took it reluctantly. The cover read, _Wizard's Guide to the Muggle World_. "You will have to read that. That has everything you need from a summary of their currency, how to dress, and how electrics and technology work. In the back there's a dictionary with pictures, so you know what their little gadgets do and what they are called."

Draco Malfoy held the guide in his hand, feeling the weight of it on his hands. It was a very thick book. Draco estimated probably thousands of pages, and internally groaned, wishing more than anything he could be back at home. Draco felt a knot in his throat beginning to form, and he tried desperately to fight back tears and retain a bit of his dignity.

"Don't worry," Mrs. Schuler said in a comforting yet reproachful voice, "if you read that you will get around. The rest all comes through experience. Now, follow me." The woman got up, and signaled him to follow. Draco stood and did as he was told, following the woman out of the office and down more halls. They entered a room with many small cubicles, and a large desk in the front of the room. His stomach churned. Draco Malfoy knew where he was, but denied accepting it. Mrs. Schuler grabbed some papers and handed them to him, directing him to fill them out and return them to the man who was manning the large desk, and then left. He went to a small table designated as a place to fill out said papers, and he began. He gave his information and everything required of him, neglecting to read the large print at the top of the paper. He didn't want to look at it. When he finished he went to the large desk and handed them to the small wizard sitting behind it, who looked over the papers.

"Your wand, Mr. Malfoy?" The small wizard asked.

Draco Malfoy's heart hammered in his chest. His hands trembled.

His wand. The symbol of his magic. The symbol of where he belonged, where he was born, who he was. He was expected to hand it over. That was like handing a part of himself over. Giving over his wand was giving himself over, taking away who he was, where he belonged, what world he was a part of.

The small wizard behind the desk extended his hand, waving it impatiently.

Draco reached into his pocket slowly, feeling the wood between his fingers. He remembered going to Ollivander's when he was just eleven years old with his mother and father, and having a wand chosen for him. His father had said he was a true man now. His mother smiled with joy, proclaiming him now an official wizard. Who would he be without his wand?

"Mr. Malfoy, your wand." The small wizard demanded now.

Draco's heart accelerated, his mouth went dry. With a shaking hand he handed it over, trying to bite back tears and look indifferent. The wizard behind the desk tugged on his wand and for a split second Draco did not let go, until finally he did. The man verified it was indeed Draco Malfoy's wand, and then promptly and without hesitation snapped it in half, to Draco's absolute horror.

Draco stared wide eyed at his wand which now lay in pieces.

"Sign here, saying that you will not attempt any form of communication with the wizarding world nor set foot in it until the end of your life."

Draco signed, his eyes still on his wand, disbelieving what had just happened. He felt empty, and bare. Stripped of all manhood and wizarding abilities. Strangely enough, not one thought raced through his mind. His head was empty, as if abandoned. Draco Malfoy was empty, devoid of a wand, devoid of a soul. The knot in his throat still persisted, and once more tears began to threaten to enter his eyes.

"Are we all situated, Mr. Malfoy?" Mrs. Schuler asked from behind Draco, having just reappeared.

Draco mindlessly turned away from his wand and toward the woman and nodded. She beckoned him out of the room and walked back to her office, lighting up her fireplace and dumping floo powder into it.

"The address is 113 Avenue." She told him, handing Draco a handful of floo powder.

Draco looked at the powder and felt it between his hands. Mrs. Schuler hadn't explicitly announced it, but he knew where he was going. He knew that once he got into that fireplace, he was to never turn back. He looked at the powder, and committed the feel of it to memory. It was the last wizarding substance he would feel. He gave a quick fleeting look around the office and mentally thought of his mother and father, bidding them goodbye in his mind. He sensed that the woman was giving him an impatient look and so he tore his mind from any idle thoughts and tossed the floo powder into the fire, making it green.

"113 J. Watson Avenue." Draco Malfoy announced in a cold, monotone, and lifeless voice.

Soon the office was out of view and he found himself in an unfamiliar fireplace. For the first time, he wanted to break down and cry right where he was. It would be easy, as he had the tears to do so. He wanted to climb back into the fireplace and shout his address and go back to his home, with his mother. But he just froze in place, standing in a room with mediocre hard wood floors, unable to fathom what was going on. A few seconds later he perceived the sound of another being entering the fireplace through the floo network—Mrs. Schuler. Draco heard her say something about the apartment, and how it was similar to homes in the wizarding world save for muggle technology, but Draco Malfoy was not mentally present in the room with her. His mind had gone back through the fireplace and into the world to which he belonged.

The woman then mumbled something about furniture, and waved her wand. The empty room in which Draco was standing was now decorated with the minimal amount of furniture: A sofa, a coffee table, a television, and a couple shelves with three books. Out of his peripheral vision, Draco saw the witch beckon him to follow her around, and he mindlessly moved his feet behind her. She walked into a bed room, opened the closets and gave him a quick lesson on dress, but Draco was not listening. She then picked up a small contraption which flashed red numbers: A small alarm clock. Draco did not know the name, and he didn't bother learning it when Mrs. Schuler spoke it either. Nothing was of interest to him.

The only thing on Draco Malfoy's mind was how unusually light his pockets were, and how utterly defenseless he felt. The ministry witch could have killed him right that second, and Draco wouldn't have had a way to defend himself.

After a tour and demonstration of every simple muggle tool that Mrs. Schuler came across, she and Draco made their way into the kitchen. The woman gave him a lesson on how to work the stove and the microwave, described the refrigerator, taught him how to boil water, opened the cupboards and explained the function of cans, taught him how to use a can opener, and then explained how the oven worked. Draco did not nod. Draco only stood and stared at everything muggle with a look of disgust and horror, and bitter sadness for the world he had left behind.

"Well Mr. Malfoy I have given you every bit of information I am required to give you. The rest shall be found in the handbook I have given you. Are there any questions before I leave?" Mrs. Schuler asked, bringing Draco Malfoy back to the present.

Draco didn't have any questions, but suddenly a fear struck him. If the ministry witch left, he would be alone. Completely isolated from his world. The only proof that he had lived in the wizarding world will have been gone. Draco Malfoy wracked his brain for any petty questions he could ask to keep her longer, but none came to mind.

"Um," Draco stalled. "What am I supposed to eat?"

"The food in your pantry, Mr. Malfoy. The ministry has also provided you with a set amount of money to start with, so you can have time to adjust and find a job and still buy food."

"In your bedroom, you will find a vault. It has about four months' worth of money to sustain you. Will that be all?"

"How do I open the vault?"

"Oh, yes, silly me. The combination is simply 23-55-10." Mrs. Schuler turned toward the fireplace. "Enjoy your stay." She said, climbing inside the fireplace.

"Wait!" Draco said desperately, calling out to Mrs. Schuler. The woman paused, eyeing him with a startled expression on her face.

She regarded him with little patience and suspicion. Mrs. Schuler began to suspect Draco Malfoy was simply attempting to keep her there for as long as possible, which only irritated her more. She had little patience for men like Draco Malfoy, and she had much work to finish at the ministry, not to mention filing his exile papers.

Draco Malfoy, on the other hand was desperately searching for something to say that could hold her there, and wouldn't make him feel foolish. He decided to feign interest in some muggle contraption.

"H-how did the uh, cold box… regirator… work again?" Draco said, attempting to seem interested in his question.

"It's in your manual Mr. Malfoy. I have much work to be done, now if you'll excuse me." Mrs. Schuler replied impatiently. Before Draco could do anything she had dumped floo powder into the fireplace and spun away.

Immediately after she was out of sight and forever out of her reach, Draco Malfoy collapsed to his knees, bringing his hands to his head, pulling his white blond hair in complete loss and despair.

Meanwhile, away from the muggle world where Draco Malfoy had been sentenced to live in, was Hermione Granger, having returned from Draco Malfoy's brief trial in the wizarding world. She had the recent trial on her mind; content that it was not Azkaban at the very least, and pleased that Draco Malfoy would possibly learn that muggles were not inferior to wizardkind. After deliberating on the trial for several minutes she thought it best to push it from her mind, as she would never hear from Malfoy again. She returned to her office to deposit some documents and promptly began to grab her coat in preparation for her shift at Diagon Alley. Hermione paused for a moment, her hands on her jacket, wondering if it was cold enough for a scarf as well. While she thought, a small airplane made of paper soared into her office and floated about her head until her attention was brought to the floating object. She grabbed it, knowing it was a memo from the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement because of the yellowish color, and opened it.

_Please see me in my office as soon as you're available, Miss Granger._

_Mr. Briggs_

Hermione became slightly anxious after reading the note. He had asked to see her in his office loads of times, and each time she became anxious. It was something she could not help. Hermione decided to leave her coat in her office and visit Mr. Briggs straight away.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Hermione Granger announced as she stood by the office door. She waited for his reply before completely entering his office.

"Yes, please come in." Mr. Briggs replied. He barely looked up from his paperwork as he spoke to her, giving an air of a man who had far more important things to do than to entertain questions by a young woman. Hermione Granger had done as asked, however, and so he took a moment to part from his files and look up at his employee, intertwining his fingers in front of him.

Mr. Briggs had a very important and heavy task for Hermione Granger. He regarded her with a curious expression, internally debating with himself how best to explain this important and heavy task to her. Mr. Briggs had no doubt Hermione Granger would deny doing this, as she was always eager to work and had respect for her employers, but he had no idea how she would take the news. He thought it best she should sit, and so he gestured for her to do just that. Hermione Granger sat.

"You've been a wonderful asset to the Ministry thus far." Mr. Briggs began slowly, thinking it best to begin with a compliment. Hermione Granger's insides churned at this sentence, because it sounded to her as though he was going to fire her. Mr. Briggs continued. "You've been here barely a year and you've done better than those who have worked here for ten, and I admire the fact that you're very loyal, and you do whatever is asked of you, no matter what it takes. So thank you."

"You're welcome, sir." Hermione replied quietly. She felt slightly hopeful now, because the additional sentences her boss had uttered now seemed as if on the path to a promotion. She sat up in her chair, letting hope get the best of her. She wished terribly for a promotion.

"I'm afraid that I will have to ask now, a very large and costly favor of you. But I know you are able to do it. And when you finish with this task, there will be rewards for you. Understand that there is no one else I can spare for this. You have the knowledge and experience fit for this task and so I can ask no one else. But I am in great need of you to do this." After each sentence, Mr. Briggs paused, consciously allowing his words to sink into Hermione Granger's mind. He had never asked so much of his employees, especially when they have been working under him for such a short time.

"I understand." Hermione replied, skeptical and wary now. She had the feeling it wasn't a good task.

"Well then, as you know, Mr. Draco Malfoy has just been sentenced to a lifetime of exile. I believe you are also aware that the Ministry of Magic does not trust him at all, for actions he has taken part in during his past. The ministry needs someone to keep an eye on him, so to speak. And that someone, is you."

"But sir," Hermione began, not liking where this was going at all. "He's in exile. The ministry has never kept tabs on any person who is exiled." She shook her head slightly in protest. Was he really asking her to travel back and forth between the muggle and wizarding world every day? This was practically asking her to be a spy, a thought that Hermione was in complete disagreement with.

"I am well aware." Mr. Briggs replied, his tone now stern. He feared she would reject this task, and so he felt it necessary to establish himself as her superior once more. "This is an exception. He is considered dangerous. We feel that he might try and make his way back into the wizarding world. We only need you to keep your eye out for him for a while, and then once you are sure of his commitment to stay in the muggle world, you shall return to your normal schedule." The man paused. "I am not asking whether you would like to do it or not. I am telling you that you are going to do this."

Mr. Briggs' last sentence came out as almost a threat. It was a sentence that made Hermione internally shrink back, and immediately despise him. She felt herself tighten and her nostrils flare, angry that she didn't have a choice. It would take her copious amounts of time to travel between the muggle and wizarding worlds. This was too much. She had no time to do this, on top of her normal duties.

"I can't possibly keep an eye out for Draco Malfoy and work my shifts, this is entirely too much—"

"I am aware, which is why you will not be doing your normal shifts. Your job henceforth will now consist of you watching Mr. Malfoy."

Hermione Granger's breath caught in her throat, and she looked at her boss with a curious and appalled expression, silently questioning what he wanted her to do. She was confused, and did not understand.

"What do you want me to do, exactly?" Hermione asked warily, not wanting to know the answer. Her fingers unconsciously dug themselves into the fabric of the chair, anxiously awaiting the answer.

"You will watch Mr. Malfoy in his exile, every day and every night, round the clock, for two years. We have already provided you with an apartment right across from his, and you shall live there for the time that you are watching him. You will be under polyjuice potion—"

"What?! That's mad! You're practically sending me to exile with him!" Hermione protested, rising from her chair in pure anger and bewilderment. It was absolutely and completely outside of her job description. Nothing she has done had warranted this whatsoever.

"Sit. Down. Miss. Granger." Mr. Briggs said with enough severity and threat to make the toughest adults cower in fear. Hermione immediately sat, still outraged. She thought of quitting, or walking out, but she couldn't make her legs move. She sat there, frozen.

"You will be allowed to keep in contact with your family and friends once a week, through the floo network. The ministry will make sure it is open at designated times. Obviously make sure Mr. Malfoy does not somehow come to aquire that knowledge, although if he does use it we will know and send him to Azkaban—"

"But sir, you honestly expect me to drink polyjuice potion every single hour of every single week… if done often enough it could make one permanently change into the figure they have shifted into!" Hermione interrupted, her mind thinking of other things rather than what her boss was saying.

"We have reserved our finest potion makers to make you a polyjuice potion that is very potent. One glassful will be able to keep you in the shape you are assuming for one month. Any other questions?" Mr. Briggs asked impatiently, knowing that if he began describing the job she would keep asking questions. He thought it best to just have her ask them straightaway.

"You're asking me to leave my friends and everyone I know for two years, seeing them only briefly once a week, in order to keep tabs on a man who I despise, and on top of that a man who shouldn't even have people watching him because he's in exile? Sir, doesn't the bracelet tell the ministry of his location? Why not use that?"

"Simple. The location spell used on that bracelet is not permanent. There will come a time, during the course of these two years, where it will wear off, and so we need you there. Besides, location is not enough. He could have figured out a way to remove it, or be plotting to do something. The bracelet does not tell us that. The only permanent thing the bracelet does is prevent the wearer from using harmful magic. As for your other points, what was the very first thing you did prior to your employment here, after your screening, Miss Granger?" Mr. Briggs asked her, his eyes focused entirely on her.

"I took an oath." Hermione replied, knowing very well where this was going. She did not like where it was going. Hermione looked down at her lap, biting her lip.

"And what did that oath that you took, say?" Mr. Briggs asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it from the witch's lips.

There was a slight hesitation within Hermione.

"That I will do everything in my power to aid the wizarding world for all of good, and that I will undergo anything the Ministry asks of me, in the name of security, justice, and for the protection of all witches and wizards." A defeated Hermione Granger muttered in verbatim. Mr. Briggs leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms and smiling, satisfact with his employees answer.

Confident Hermione Granger would fulfill this task he needed her to do, he told her that she would be deployed to the muggle world exactly one week from now, and he dismissed her without further word.

Hermione Granger simply got up and left, too angry with herself and Mr. Briggs to do anything but turn her back and walk out.

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A/N: This chapter obviously didn't have much stuff besides positioning the characters for the next chapters so be patient! the next chapters will definitely have dramione interaction. I'm still trying to figure out how I'm going to write hermione, because she will be in disguise and draco won't know her as hermione, ovbiously. He'll know her by another name. If i use that name people might forget it's hermione? Or if i use hermione they'll wonder if she's in disguise or not? and i'm not writing both. Hm. Well if you guys have any suggestions about this i'm all ears man. And also if you liked this chapter or have any thoughts as well please leave a review! Until next time! Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: _Sorry for the lateness! College stuff... Anyways, expect the next update to be around dec. 18th because I have no time to write until then. But for now please enjoy!

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_Exile _Chapter Five

Hermione Granger walked around her apartment, making sure she had everything packed and ready. She had had dinner with Harry Potter, Ginny and Ron Weasley the day before she was to leave for the muggle world. Every one of them had complained about how unfair Hermione's circumstances were, but as she had very little to no choice in the matter, her friends resorted to highlighting the positives of her job.

"It won't be that bad, Hermione." Ginny had said, "Two years will go by quick."

"Yeah, plus you can visit us on Sundays when you have off." Ron had added.

"You're not _in _exile, you're just making sure Malfoy doesn't leave. You still have all the rights." Harry had said, trying to lighten Hermione's outlook on her new job task. "Besides, you really only have time to see us on weekends. What's one less day?"

The comments Ron, Harry and Ginny had made had considerably lessened her anger and turned the negative outlook she had into a neutral one. They had been right, her social life wouldn't be radically changed. She usually hung out with Harry, Ron, or Ginny on Saturdays and Sundays. Only being with them on Sundays wouldn't be hard to adjust to. What she and her friends had purposefully failed to mention, was that she would be looking after Draco Malfoy. That was not something Hermione was particularly enthused about doing by any stretch.

Hermione checked her watch. A half hour until she was due to be at the Ministry to sign out, and leave. She stood in front of the mirror in her apartment, wondering what she would look like after the polyjuice potion had been ingested. Her bags and belongings were all packed. The ministry had refurbished her new muggle apartment, so it was not necessary for her to move everything, just her clothes and bed sheets.

Hermione sighed, and looked around. _I'll be back once a week,_ she silently promised her living space. She then grabbed a small purse, which was charmed to contain all of the belongings she had packed, and proceeded to the fireplace. She threw some floo powder inside, and spun away to the ministry.

"Ah, you are here." Mr. Briggs said once Hermione stepped inside her boss's office. He had spent his time anxiously awaiting her arrival in his office, fearing that Hermione would not show up despite his earlier confidence in her. He rose from his chair and walked to a cabinet in order to retrieve the proper files Hermione needed to sign. "These are some release forms, you will need to sign those, and a waiver for the polyjuice potion." He handed the files to Hermione, who took them with apparent reluctance.

Hermione Granger signed the papers quickly before she changed her mind about the whole thing. She practically shoved them back to her boss, who was mildly surprised by her harshness but did not comment on it.

"Mafalda brought this over ten minutes ago." Mr. Briggs spoke, walking over to a closet-like door and opening it, revealing a pantry of potions. He took a small bottle out and closed the door, walking back to Hermione.

He held the clear bottle in such a way that it was hard for Hermione to look at the liquid inside, and Mr. Briggs had done this on purpose so as to not discourage Hermione from drinking it, as it was a nasty purple color. He was relieved when Hermione simply took it and quickly ingested it. The liquid tasted like grass and plants with pineapple and sugar, and Hermione thought it did not taste as bad as she had imagined. To her, it was better than Harry, Bellatrix, or the cat she had accidentally turned into her second year of Hogwarts, but it still had a bitter taste to it. Immediately, Hermione began to feel the potion settling in and her body changing. Her insides felt as if they were all moving simultaneously beneath her skin, her bones expanded in some places, and contracted in others, her teeth and tongue shifted around in her mouth, and she felt herself shoot upward two inches. In a few minutes, she felt her growing and shrinking slow down and finally stop, and her insides and bones slowed their growth and came to a halt.

"You'll have to take this potion once a month. We recommend you make a new identity for yourself just in case you happen to need it." Mr. Briggs said to Hermione, appraising her new physical identity. Extremely curious, Hermione looked around the office for some sort of reflective surface but found none. Mr. Biggs, knowing immediately what Hermione was looking for, walked over to his potion pantry and opened the door, revealing a mirror behind the door.

Hermione walked up to it without a word. It was a body mirror, so she was able to see her entire figure. A different reflection than her own stared back, and for a split second, Hermione was shocked. All in all, Hermione was pleasantly surprised. The new girl in the mirror looked very naturally and pretty in a simple way. It was the kind of pretty that was at first not apparent, but after a few moments it began to show. Hermione's hair had gone from brown and curly, to a very straight, dark, almost black color which reached down to the middle of her back. Hermione reached a hand up to touch it, feeling the slick and soft strands between her fingers. She also found she had bangs, which obscured her entire forehead and eyebrows. She found it a bit annoying as she was not used to it, but figured she would get used to them with the passing of time. What was shocking about Hermione's new appearance and person was the eyes, most of all. They were green, but unlike any green Hermione had ever seen. It was a pure green, that shined bright in the light. Because of the black hair, they stood out even more, giving Hermione's new overall appearance an unearthly quality. Hermione touched her own cheek, finding it a bit firmer than what she was used to. Her skin tone was not pale, but not tan either, and for that she was thankful, because she did not like to look pale with such dark hair and bright eyes. Hermione disliked her new nose however, finding it a bit too big for her new face, and thought perhaps it was her nose that impeded this new appearance from being immediately pretty. Hermione's new green eyes scanned downward. She found her figure had not changed much, aside from a bit more padding around the stomach, but it was not much.

Hermione turned away from the mirror, knowing she had all the time in the world to study her new self. It was something she could get used to.

"And what will be your muggle name, Miss. Granger?" Mr. Briggs said, having patiently waited for Hermione to survey herself in his mirror before asking. He felt it was time for her to be on her way so he could get back to his work, and so he decided not to give her any more time to study herself.

"Georgia Tanner." Hermione immediately replied, voicing the first name that came to mind. She had a classmate named Georgia Tanner who attended school with Hermione before Hermione was eleven and sent to Hogwarts. It was a name that was always stuck in the back of her mind, because Georgia Tanner was her academic rival during her childhood years.

"Very well then, Miss Georgia Tanner." Mr. Briggs replied, closing the closet door and leading Hermione toward the fireplace. He swung by his desk to retrieve Hermione's small bag of belongings and promptly handed it to her. Hermione felt anxious to leave as much as her boss, but both did their best not to show their eagerness to be on their way for the sake of social protocol.

"Will that be all?" Hermione asked, placing one foot in the fireplace and grabbing some floo powder.

"Yes, that will be all, Miss Granger."

As Hermione transported herself to her new location, Draco Malfoy was staring vacantly into the closed off fireplace, kneeling upon the hardwood floors, his hands balled up into fists and on his thighs. He had never felt more alone in his entire life, never felt more isolated from the world which he grew up in. His soul was so hollow, emotionless. He felt as if his soul had been ripped out from his body, leaving nothing but a shell. He thought he might as well have had a dementor's kiss, and it wouldn't have felt any different. Perhaps it would have been better. One thing was for certain: If Draco wasn't as prejudiced toward muggles as he was, his transition into the muggle world would have been easier, and he wouldn't have felt so empty. Of course, Draco did not think this, or consider his prejudice anything negative at all. And so he sat there, an inert, idle being, doing nothing but breathing in front of the fireplace, unable to think, speak, or perform any movements. Somehow Draco Malfoy felt that if he did not do anything, somehow the situation would fix itself. That he was somehow dreaming, and if he refused to live like a muggle, he wouldn't become one, and he would return to the wizarding world.

The sun had been high in the sky when Mrs. Schuler of the Muggle Affairs department had left Draco Malfoy, and now the sun was gone, replaced by darkness. Draco still sat in front of the fire, now watching the ashes, wondering if they could somehow bring him a green fire, or if the ashes were floo powder. He never bothered to check, in case it was not the case. He'd rather imagine he had a way out, than find out the opposite. His stomach had been growling and demanding his attention since the sun had begun its journey across the sky, yet he paid it no mind. He was used to it by now. He had neither wish nor intention to use muggle contraptions to fix him food. At that moment he'd rather die than touch anything muggle. Draco's thoughts wandered to his mother, and her state of being. He wished more than anything he had some way to know if she was doing all right. If she was unharmed, and alive. If she had food to eat. If she had in fact sold his ring.

Hours passed by, and Draco remained inert, in front of the fireplace that once bore a connection to his world. He decided that this was quite literally, hell. Somehow Draco Malfoy managed to convince himself that he was dead, and that he had been sent to hell, and this was it: the muggle world. That analogy, which he chose to call it, helped him a small amount to get by. Somehow the thought that he couldn't possibly be alive calmed him. Surely he had died. Surely something this bad could not happen to him. His stomach growled and once again he ignored it. In hell stomachs were never satisfied.

Across the hall, Hermione Granger, now Georgia Tanner, had already accommodated herself in her new home for six days of the week for the next two years. Her anger about her new job had defused slightly, thanks to the support of Ginny, Harry, and Ron. It was not so bad, once she realized her job was practically babysitting. She was after all, permitted to use magic and live relatively normally, unlike her neighbor across the hall, Draco Malfoy. _My neighbor is Draco Malfoy._ Hermione thought to herself, allowing that thought to sink in. It didn't sit well with her, but she knew she would have to learn to adjust. It was in Hermione Granger's nature to be open and accepting to everyone. The only reason why she was not enthused about being near Draco Malfoy was because he had been particularly rotten to her and her friends, and that became a prime reason for her to dislike him. If Draco Malfoy had been polite, the outcomes would have been drastically different. Perhaps she wouldn't be in this very situation.

It was still surprising for Hermione to pass by a mirror and not see the reflection of herself, but rather of another strange girl who she had named Georgia. Every time she passed by or happen to look at any reflective surface Hermione's eyes would jump to that strange reflection, and it would take her one whole second to realize it was in fact herself. Not only her reflection was a constant reminder of her changed physique, but the way she felt was as well. She did not feel the same. Hermione felt awkward in this new body. The fingers were longer than she was used to, the legs as well. She was not used to feeling her stomach adjust to her when she sat down, nor was she used to the skin tone whenever any inch of her skin was in sight. However, Hermione was an optimistic and positive person, and she took all of her experiences as something to learn from, and found she operated better on the pretense that this experience was gaining her knowledge on disguises and keeping tabs on people. Both were things she needed if she wished to climb the ladder to Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Hermione went into her brand new kitchen, finding it already stocked with food and a dining table. She looked inside the cabinets and found silverware, glasses, plates, and several pre-prepared foods. Her refrigerator was stocked with fruit and vegetables, juices, and other foods. Upon seeing all the food her stomach made itself known and she decided it was time for something to fill her up. She put water in a kettle and placed it on the stove, turning it on, and remembering the days where she lived with her parents, coming home from Hogwarts in the summer and having to use muggle appliances. She remembered her father jokingly asking her,

"Well if you're really a witch, then why don't you take out that wand and do it yourself?"

"I can't do magic outside of Hogwarts, dad! If you need more than my word I suggest you read _Hogwarts: A History_!" Hermione had replied, barely twelve years old then.

Hermione had truly grown up with the best of both worlds, and she was quite thankful of that fact currently. She had always known that her experiences in both worlds was as useful as being bilingual in the muggle world.

The kettle had soon began to blow steam, demanding Hermione's attention. She shut off the stove and removed the kettle from the heat, then grabbed a tea cup and placed a tea bag inside. Hermione poured water in the cup, and stirred. She did not like sugar in her tea. As she waited for it to reach a drinkable temperature, Hermione thought about the exiled wizard living next door. She hadn't seen or heard anything from across the apartment. No cries, no slamming, nothing. It was silent, as if the apartment were empty. Hermione did not want to admit to herself that it made her slightly nervous, because then she would have to check on Malfoy, and that meant interacting with him. Not that she was fearful of interaction with the blond, but she did not feel it best to present herself as a muggle, while he was probably mourning the world he had left, and his despise for muggles was most likely at an all-time high.

Hermione had no idea just how correct she was. If she had gone over to check on him, Draco Malfoy would have most definitely spat in her face, and slammed the door, screaming a torrent of swear words designed to hurt her. Such behavior would have probably angered Hermione and the temptation to hex him would be hard to swallow, compromising her identity and her position. Instead, Hermione stayed where she was, now sipping tea, allowing the heat to bring warmth to her body, and fill her stomach. She decided to give Draco Malfoy a couple of days to adjust, and then she planned to interact with him somehow, so she could assess his situation. After all, he was still required to wear his silver bracelet, which contained a location spell which would soon wear off. Hermione Granger was certain he would make no move to escape tonight, or the next few days.

She imagined him trying to figure out what all the appliances did, and found the thought quite odd and humorous. The idea of Draco Malfoy in a muggle setting was so odd and completely far-fetched that it was actually funny to her. She imagined him trying to heat unopened canned beans on the stove, completely exhausted by the results. She then imagined him accidentally overheating those cans of beans, having the can explode and throw beans all over the kitchen. She pictured him forgetting to turn off the stove, trying to wipe the beans off the stove top with a towel and then Hermione pictured the towel catching fire. Hermione immediately closed her eyes, placing her cup of tea down on the counter and pinching her nose. She refused to picture such things, as they made her increasingly nervous, and increased the drive to walk over to his apartment and find out if he had set fire to his apartment yet. Obviously, there was no smoke anywhere so the apartment was okay, and Hermione kept telling herself this until she no longer thought about the potential disasters that could have occurred.

The next morning, Draco Malfoy had committed the mistake of looking through his brand new kitchen cabinets. He recognized some meals, and his stomach, as if sensing the food, gave a great lurch. As if from natural instinct, Draco looked around unconsciously searching for witches or wizards who might somehow be hidden and spying on what he was considering to do. Draco Malfoy was much a character of outward manifestations. He would stick to what was required and demanded of him within the presence of his equals, but unwatched he made small exceptions, like this one. Had his mother been with him in that apartment Draco would not think twice about touching anything muggle, but he was very much alone. And he was very much hungry.

Draco spotted a box with the picture of mashed potatoes on the front, and his stomach gave another lurch. He accepted easily he was hungry. With another mental push he quickly accepted the picture on the box looked appetizing. His mouth watered. He gave a quick look around, proving to himself that he was truly alone, and proceeded to rip open the box with uncharacteristic enthusiasm but his enthusiasm came to a halt as soon as his eyes spotted the contents inside. Inside the box were white flakes, looking nothing like what was on the box cover.

"What in Merlin's saggy left…" Draco murmured to himself in disbelief and astonishment. He stared at the box for ten long seconds before scrunching his face in confusion and wonder. He had no idea what the contents of the box were, but his logic dictated that they had to end up looking like the picture on the cover somehow.

His stomach gave another growl and he put the box aside, deciding that he would keep searching for another food. He was not in the mood to puzzle over flakes in a box. While Draco searched his cabinets, Hermione Granger was in her apartment, hand on her door knob, mentally reviewing the story she was about to recite to Malfoy.

"I'm nineteen… I just moved here because it's close to the university I'm attending… My name is Georgia Tanner, I'm new to the neighborhood, may I borrow a skillet to cook my food in. Okay. Got it." Hermione recited to herself. Before she changed her mind she wrenched open the door, and walked three feet to Malfoy's door, and knocked three times.

Draco froze upon hearing a knock. He stayed still, wondering if someone was knocking on his door, or someone else's. He entertained the notion that perhaps it was a ministry agent, coming to check up on him but he knew well it wasn't. He heard the knocks again. He decided it had to be a muggle. With disgust, he stayed put, deciding that the low life muggle would eventually go away.

On the other side of the door, Hermione Granger was growing impatient. She knew very well Draco Malfoy was home as he had nowhere to go, and it irked her that he would refuse to answer the door. She was tempted to yell his name, to tell him she knew he was in there, but resisted. She had to play her part. She knocked again, harder this time. They were not paying her enough for this job. She knocked again.

Inside, Draco grew anxious and unsteady. The muggle seemed to be unwavering in their quest to be attended. He placed his fingers upon his temples and traced circles there, trying to block out the now constant knocking. He closed his eyes. Seconds later, the knocking stopped, much to his relief. He stayed still a few minutes longer to ensure the muggle had gone.

Hermione however, went from feeling impatient and irksome to slightly amused and surprised. Apparently Draco Malfoy thought he could live his everyday life without interacting with the outside world. She smiled to herself as she backed away from the door, shaking her head at his determination to make as less contact with her world as possible. She decided to return in an hour, more out of amusement than anything else.

Hermione was a woman of wonder and knowledge. She always loved a challenge, and a good learning opportunity. And as she closed her own apartment door, she realized she now had a challenge, or experiment. She wondered if it would be possible to condition Malfoy into being comfortable with the muggle world, and muggles themselves. As she sat down to turn on her TV, she made it her mission while she was living there, to change Malfoy's opinion.

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A/N: Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review, and happy holidays!


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note: _I had tons of spare time somehow this week so I wrote this and finished early! Hope you all enjoy!

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_Exile _Chapter Six

By the third day of Draco Malfoy's exile, Draco was in complete war with himself and the world around him. He did not wish to admit to himself, but Draco was showing signs of defeat. Twice now he had been painfully close to opening the manual the ministry witch had given him so he could finally figure out how all the muggle appliances worked and calm the raging storm in his stomach. On both of those attempts he pictured his father sternly looking at him with complete rage and disapproval. _It's much better to die a starving man with dignity than living as a low life blood traitor on a full stomach, _the image of his father had said. _But I'm famished, father, _Draco countered mentally to his father's image. _And you aren't really here, are you?_ After all, Draco already felt low and dirty considering his circumstances, what was going any lower? But Draco stopped there, because those were thoughts that would lead him down a path he did not wish to follow. Character, after all, was what one did when others were not watching.

During the day he would occupy himself by bleakly sitting on his sofa, completely idle, thinking of the wizarding world and his mother. He missed his mother most of all. He wondered how she was, and if she was okay. Little did Draco know, Narcissa worried about her only son as well. She felt completely alone and depressed in a society that did not want her company, and so she was forced to stay inside, living on the money that came from Draco's Slytherin ring, which she had reluctantly sold.

There were hours during Draco's days where he became extremely sad, lying down on the floor in a puddle of tears and self-loathing because he refused to sit on the bed or sofa as it was muggle. Those days he would regret his very existence, and tried to pry the silver bracelet off of his wrist with red faced anger until he became exhausted and fell asleep. Other times he would curse everything in sight, and everything he couldn't see, like the ministry, the wizarding world, and those four wizards that made him lose his temper and everything he had. Draco Malfoy was nothing but a boiling cauldron of anger and resentment due to explode at any moment.

Hermione Granger on the other hand, was in the process of opening her door and walking across the hall once again to knock on Malfoy's door, her new mission to make Malfoy see muggles were not bad freshly imprinted in her mind. She knocked three times, just like the last time, and waited, rehearsing her information in her head. She was prepared for his unkind rudeness, and was even expecting more rudeness than usual given his situation.

On the other side of the door, Draco was staring at his bracelet with pure hatred when he heard three knocks on the door. He froze, internally groaning. He knew it was that muggle again, and he wanted nothing to do with them. It began to dawn on him however, that perhaps the muggle would not stop until he finally answered, and the prospect of an unknown repeated knocker on his door every day was somehow worse to him than being left alone to rot in a poor apartment. As he got up from the spot on the floor to answer, he kept in mind to keep his dignity and demonstrate who was more superior.

He opened the door, revealing a muggle girl, about a half inch shorter than he. Draco said nothing, and just watched the muggle, waiting. If she were a witch, Draco would have found her attractive although he would have never admitted that to himself at the moment. When he opened the door, she was the ugliest thing in the world. But in the back of his mind, as he watched the girl fidget obviously expecting a greeting of some sort, he found her awkwardly attractive, as far as muggles went. His first thought was that the girl was a version of Harry Potter, his old Hogwarts School rival. She had long dark black hair and bangs that almost reached her eyes which were strikingly green. Draco felt quite shocked; he had never seen such green eyes.

"Uh, hello." Hermione Granger greeted awkwardly from under her disguise of the muggle girl. "I'm Georgia Tanner, I just moved here from across the hall—"

"What do you want?" Draco replied quite harshly. He was surprised to see the muggle girl, Georgia, wasn't taken aback at all by his harsh question. Somehow that offended him more than her presence.

"I need to borrow a skillet to cook in, I don't have mine." Georgia replied calmly and practically. Hermione was completely expecting Malfoy to snap on her, and so she was ready. She quite enjoyed seeing his expression of annoyance once he realized his harshness had no effect on her.

"A what?" Draco barked at her, about done interacting with such lowlife. His hand gripped the door, about ready to close it, but the muggle girl Georgia leaned on it, preventing him from closing the door and making Draco very frustrated.

"A skillet, you know what that is." Hermione replied, blinking rapidly to move her new bangs from her eyes. She said the last half of the sentence with heavy emphasis, knowing that Draco Malfoy knew what a skillet was, as there were skillets in the wizarding world.

At this point, Draco didn't know what to feel. He felt very angry yet very taken aback and confused by this muggle's behavior. She was very forward and confident, something Draco wasn't used to, and it offended him at time because muggles weren't supposed to be confident around him. Malfoy needed to put her in her place.

"No of course I know what a skallet is you muggle!" Draco shot at her, flustered and frantically trying to recall what kind of muggle tool she was asking for. It didn't escape his mind that to her, he was another muggle, and that it would look odd if a muggle didn't know what a simple skallet was. And Malfoy could not afford to look silly in front of such a low life species. The name was vaguely familiar to him, although he couldn't quite place it.

"It's a skillet." Hermione corrected, her voice disguised under Georgia Tanner's. It was still quite odd for her to hear someone else's voice when she spoke, but she was growing accustomed to it. Sometimes Hermione Granger talked to herself when she was alone in her apartment so that she could get used to hearing someone else's voice and adopt it as her own.

"Whatever, why don't you go and get a _skillet_ from someone else you annoying little—"

"Woah woah, excuse me." Hermione interrupted. She found she liked being under disguise, because it allowed her to take on a whole new different behavior she wouldn't have otherwise considered as Hermione Granger. "I was simply trying to meet my new neighbor. Are you even using your skillet?" Hermione regarded Draco Malfoy's calculating and confused expression. Suddenly, a thought dawned on her. Perhaps he did not know what a skillet was because he had never really been around them, as his house elves cooked everything for him. It was quite expected for wealthy children to not be as familiar with kitchen items, she had read that somewhere. Hermione was quite right in her assumption, as that was exactly Draco Malfoy's case.

"No I'm not." Draco shot at Georgia with a look of pure disgust. "I'm not interested in meeting anyone by the likes of you either so why don't you leave filthy muggle?" _And why haven't you left?_ Was the question Draco was asking himself that very moment, puzzling over this girl in front of him and infuriated by her at the same time. She had enough stubborn and self-righteousness as Hermione Granger, Draco realized, feeling a pang of pain at the memory of the wizarding world no matter his opinion for those inside it.

"What's a muggle?" Hermione said coyly, remembering well that muggles did not know what the term "muggle" actually meant. She needed to keep up all pretenses in order not to gain suspicion. Being under the disguise of Georgia Tanner opened a new realm of personalities for Hermione Granger. She found herself not worrying to much about how she came across, allowing herself to act freely and as she wished. Presently Hermione decided to toy with Malfoy, driving him to the edge of madness and curiosity. She found it much fun, although she was never one for sneaky trickery, this new disguise allowed her to explore that realm quite easily.

"It's what you are. Now leave." Draco snapped, simultaneously wondering why he was still entertaining this low life company. He should shut the door in her face. But yet there he stood, hand still on the door, unmoving.

"You're not a very kind neighbor." The muggle girl replied back to him dryly with a hint of sarcasm. Draco was astounded by her audacity. Intrigued even. A new spark of anger rose within him once more, this time at himself for allowing himself to feel that way. "So can I use your skillet or not."

"Wait here." Draco Malfoy ordered, after much deliberation. "Don't you dare set foot inside my house."

"Yes sir." Hermione replied sarcastically, highly amused. She wondered how stupid Draco Malfoy would look when he came back with the completely wrong item.

Meanwhile, Draco was in the kitchen madly but silently searching through cabinets and various drawers for a so-called skillet. He ran his hands through his hair, fisting it in aggravation.

After about several seconds of standing at the door, Hermione could hear the sounds of Draco Malfoy searching and rummaging madly through his kitchen for the item she had asked. She smiled to herself. It felt nice to make him look like a fool, in some secretive childish way.

"You know, it's the thing that's metal, and round, with a large handle protruding from it, usually wooden..." Hermione called through the door frame, smiling through her words. She knew very well her hint will have greatly helped and annoyed him in his small quest.

"I'm aware of what a skillet is you daft woman!" Draco shouted back at Georgia in anger. He was greatly offended that she had dared to insinuate he did not know what a simple skillet was, and yet he heaved a great and silent sigh of relief when she described it because he had absolutely no idea of what he was looking for. In reality, Draco Malfoy felt completely and utterly embarrassed at the fact that he looked like an imbecile before this muggle girl, when it was she that was the true imbecile because she was a muggle.

After several seconds he found an object that resembled what the muggle girl was saying, and he studied it briefly before walking back to her. He found her casually leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin on her face. He wanted nothing more than to wipe that grin from her face. He held the skillet with his left hand, and with his right he instinctively reached for his wand which was in his pocket. Except it wasn't. It took him a few seconds to realize he had his wand destroyed, and once again Draco Malfoy felt the pang of misery as he realized the one object that was tangible proof of his superiority was gone forever.

This movement did not go unnoticed by the muggle girl, who was truly Hermione Granger in disguise. She looked at his right hand which had just now realized there was no wand to be held, and she felt truly sorry for him. Past aside, Hermione knew that it was painful to be stripped of one's very identity from one day to the next for something that wasn't entirely one's own fault. Without thinking, Hermione cast Georgia's intense green eyes up to Malfoy's empty grey ones, conveying her sadness and sympathy in one look. Draco Malfoy looked back at this muggle girl, scrunching his eyebrows briefly in curiosity. Had she just looked at his hand and back up with a look of sadness and perhaps understanding?

"My brother suffered from nerve problems. He couldn't control his hand movements either." Hermione very intelligently covered up, mentally reminding herself of her new character. She had to pretend to misunderstand everything Draco Malfoy did.

"My only problem is a ruddy pest problem, which keeps knocking on my door demanding a skallet—"

"Skillet." Hermione corrected.

"Take your ruddy muggle _skillet _and leave me alone." Draco Malfoy said aggressively, completely furious by the entire exchange. He shoved the contraption at her, knocking her back several steps back. "Don't bother returning it you filthy low life scum." And with that, he shut the door in her face.

Draco was quite proud of himself at that moment. He had managed to end that horrid exchange on top, so to speak. He was satisfied that he had ended it with as much dignity and hatefulness as he could muster, and hoped that that was all the muggle girl needed not to return to his door ever again. Unbeknownst to Draco, however, that was simply not the case. Georgia Tanner was due to make another appearance. But to Draco Malfoy's knowledge, he had scared her away after much insulting.

For Hermione Granger, who was now back inside her apartment with a skillet she did not need, the encounter had been a mild success. She replayed her favorite moments to herself, watching in her mind Draco Malfoy's confusion at the object he needed to retrieve, and his surprise when his insults had not the slightest effect on her. She planned to return the skillet to him sometime tomorrow, perhaps. She placed the skillet on her dining table, and sat down to watch some television. She hadn't watched television in ages, and wondered if her shows from her childhood were still airing. While she surfed the channels she thought of her friends back in the wizarding world, and counted two more days until Sunday. She could hardly wait.

Meanwhile, all she could do was stay in her apartment, keeping an ear out for any suspiciousness coming from the apartment across from her. It crossed her mind that she should also aid Malfoy in involving himself with the muggle world, perhaps help him get a job, as he probably only had a limited amount of money and food, for a limited amount of time. And she could see no other way to do that than to befriend him, and push him toward the direction she wished. She had not been lying to herself when she felt sorry for him, she truly did. Hermione Granger never felt Draco Malfoy was a bad person, just simply misguided. She was aware he grew up in a hateful racist household, and those things shaped who he was. But she did not believe he was evil, or deserving to be stripped of his world like he was. A small twang of guilt entered her heart as she realized he was here because of her. _No, he's here and not in Azkaban, because of me. _Hermione corrected herself. _He knew very well he should have kept his head down. That was his own fault. I kept him from Azkaban. It's not my fault he's here._ And with those thoughts she kept her guilt away, thinking instead of her muggle past instead of the teenager across the hallway.

However that eighteen year old boy across the hall was not having as much success coping as Hermione. After several minutes of being alone in his new home he once again crumpled to the floor in anguish. His thoughts once more ventured to his mother, and her state of being. He hoped she sold his ring, yet was pained at the thought that if she did, it was gone forever. His heart yearned for nothing more but than to be with his mother. He wished very much to return to his childhood, where everything was perfect, and he was on top. He missed his father, his home, his status, the way everyone would back away from him in the Hogwarts halls because he was synonymous with royalty. He even missed picking fights with Harry Potter, challenging him to midnight duels and then never showing up in order to get Potter in trouble. He missed everything. Draco fisted his hair, an action that was now a habit for him, and crumpled to the floor in tears. He thanked Merlin no one could see him like that.

At that moment, he was willing to do anything to catch a glimpse of the wizarding world again. His eyes unthinkingly wandered to the fireplace, where Mrs. Schuler, the Head of Department of Muggle Affairs once left. She had been the last citizen of the wizarding world he would ever see. He would kill just to see even her again, just to prove to himself that the wizarding world still did in fact exist, or that his living in the muggle world was all just a nightmare. But with dead he knew he never would, and that thought reduced him to a puddle of anger and tears on the floor.

The very next Saturday morning, Hermione Granger made breakfast for two. She knew Draco Malfoy was set in his ways and pretty stubborn, so she had a feeling he would refuse to use anything muggle. Even if he did, he wouldn't know how to use things to make his own food, and so she figured he was hungry. She did not expect him to eat with her, nor did she particularly want him to, so she divided the breakfast in half, which consisted of waffles, sausage, bacon, scrambled eggs, and orange juice. She made sure to provide him with large portions so that he could eat it for lunch if he so chose. Once finished, she put his food in a huge plate, and walked across the hall.

Draco Malfoy was staring at the ceiling, thinking about his family when he heard the familiar sound of three knocks on the door and groaned aloud. This was now his personal hell. The knocks came again after Draco decided to ignore them. He did not want to encounter that muggle again. He had enough of muggles from yesterday.

"I know you're in there, might as well open the door." The muggle girl's voice sounded from behind his door.

"I told you to leave me alone, you foul, loathsome creature!" Draco spat, facing the door with as much anger as he could muster from his spot on the floor. He wondered if all muggles were as annoying and pest-like as this.

"I'm not leaving until you open this door." The muggle asserted from behind the door. This infuriated Draco even more. He ached for his wand, so he could hex that girl to smithereens right then and there. His hand literally ached for his wand.

"I do not want anything to do with the likes of you or your low life world! Don't talk to me, don't look at me, and don't even touch my door ever again! I want you to leave. Me. ALONE!" Draco yelled at the ceiling, infuriated by his circumstances and this stupid muggle. He felt completely helpless and wandless on his floor.

However Hermione, on the other side of the door, flinched at the volume in which Draco was speaking to her. She was becoming a little irked at his unappreciative behavior. The only reason why Hermione Granger wasn't fuming was because she was expecting to put up with his insults. Without thinking twice, she opened the door which was unlocked, and placed the plate of food on a small table by the door.

"What the fuck do you understand what I mean when I say leave me alone and don't come in, you worthless pest?!" Draco Malfoy fumed, speaking slowly and threateningly. He figured she absolutely had to be stupid to keep coming back, and even entering his apartment after all the threats and insults he had hurled at her.

"You look like you're starving." Hermione said from under the disguise of the muggle girl, ignoring Malfoy's words. "I thought you'd want to eat something." And with that, Hermione turned around and left, closing the door softly behind her, and leaving Malfoy completely flabbergasted.

"I don't want anything you have to offer." Draco Malfoy said to the door, directing his words toward the muggle girl that had already left.

Draco sat up, now facing the food, the aromas finding their way into his nostrils. His stomach growled and his mouth watered. _Even the muggle noticed I'm starving, _Draco thought to himself. _I'm a low life even by muggle standards. Who am I kidding_,_ here?_

After several seconds the smell of food in the air was too much to bear, and Draco Malfoy found himself hovering over the plate of breakfast food, still warm and ready to eat. He made himself go into the kitchen and hunt down a fork, reluctantly touching it, and bringing it back to the plate of food. He ate the food like a vacuum sucking up dust and dirt from a carpet. It was gone in a matter of seconds, every single bit of it, and never in his life had he felt so full when he had finished. He even wished for seconds, but stopped himself after he realized where the food had come from. He hadn't even stopped to think it was muggle food he was ingesting. The only thought in his mind had been the fact that he needed more, and more, and more.

Draco felt as if he should at least feel disgusted with himself, but his full stomach prevented him from thinking so. Once more he was at war with himself: His mind and heart wished to be disgusted, but his body did not. He was glad no one in the wizarding world could see him now, a Malfoy, stooping so low. Certainly he had tarnished his name already.

And at that moment, no one in the world felt as worthless as Draco Malfoy.

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A/N: What do you guys think so far? Hope you're all enjoying and if you're reading please don't forget to review! They mean a bunch! Thank you for all the ones I have gotten so far, and thank you for reading as usual!


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's note: _I'm terrible at updating, but here is another chapter! Please enjoy!

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_Exile _Chapter Seven

"She's here!" Ginny Weasley exclaimed as she saw the fireplace in the burrow burst into green flames before her eyes. She jumped from her chair and ran toward the flames, barely giving her friend time to stop spinning before she enveloped Hermione Granger in a huge hug. "You made it!"

"Hello Ginny!" Hermione replied after being released from the hug. She was very taken aback by Ginny's enthusiasm. "Of course I made it, I've only been gone for a week, Gin. Not a year."

Ginny, however, was taken aback by Hermione's appearance. Hermione Granger remained to look like Georgia Tanner, the muggle girl Hermione was disguised as. Ginny gaped at Hermione with a dropped jaw. Hermione had warned all her friends she would be under polyjuice potion, but they seemed to have forgotten. Ginny was about to open her mouth to comment on Hermione's physique, but at that moment Ginny had been physically blocked off from her friend by Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, who had cut in front of Ginny to hug their best friend.

"Hermione, you're here!"

"We missed you! Woah you look… different"

"You are Hermione, right?"

"Missed you all too," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes with a smile. "Need I remind you, it has been only six days I've been gone. Not too long to miss me. And yes, this is my disguise. I think it's quite nice."

"Is that Hermione? Did I hear correctly?" The voice of Mrs. Weasley came from several floors up.

"Yes, mom!" Ginny and Ron replied at the same time. Seconds later, a plum woman with fiery red hair descended down the stairs and wrapped Hermione in a tight hug.

"Oh my you look so different! How are you dear? You hungry?" Mrs. Weasley asked, automatically studying Hermione for signs of hunger, malnutrition, and checking her for overall good conditions. It was second nature for Molly Weasley to do such things, especially after having to look after such a large family.

"Not really, tea would be nice."

"I'll get right on it. Anyone else?"

Harry and Ginny volunteered for tea. After making sure Ron did not want any, Mrs. Weasley left for the kitchen and the four of them sat down on the sofa.

"Are you okay? Is he any trouble for you?" Ron immediately asked Hermione in a hushed whisper, leaning toward her with intense worry. This took Hermione aback somewhat, but she had been expecting her friends to be a bit worried about Draco Malfoy, especially because they disliked him. Ron however, was more than worried. He feared that Draco would hurt her if Hermione ever came into contact with him, as she would be disguised as a muggle. Ron strongly disliked Draco Malfoy out of all of them who sat in the living room of the burrow, convinced he was a violent sociopath who enjoyed watching people suffer. Of course, this strong opinion came about when in their seventh year of Hogwarts, Hermione had been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange.

"No, Ron. I'm fine." Hermione replied kindly, somewhat pleased that Ron was concerned for her even in a situation he needed not to be concerned about. Hermione looked to all her friends, who were taking in every inch of Hermione' bright green eyes, dark hair, and new body.

"How's he taking it though?" Ginny inquired curiously. Harry, Ron, and Ginny looked to Hermione with intense curiosity and interest.

"He's taking it just as I had expected." Hermione replied nonchalantly, not knowing what it was her friends were looking for in her answers. "He rejects anything muggle at all. He even refuses to eat, it's that bad. But I'm slowly changing that."

"Changing that?" Ginny repeated.

"You look like you could be my sister." Harry randomly pointed out. He had been studying Hermione's new appearance for a while.

"Changing him? Don't go near him." Ron said threateningly, ignoring Harry's comment.

"Relax." Hermione reassured her friends. "I do, don't I, Harry?" Hermione quickly said, acknowledging Harry's remark before getting back to the subject. "I kind of set myself little goals with him while I'm there, you know, to pass the time, have something to focus on. My little social experiment, if you will."

"What is it?" Ginny asked.

"You can't change him." Harry asserted.

"You'll get yourself killed." Ron stated.

"I'm going to demonstrate to him that muggles and their world aren't bad at all." Hermione replied, choosing to ignore Ron, who was now acting silly.

"Only you do this for fun." Harry said jokingly.

"Well, to be honest, I also feel a bit bad for him. And I understand his behavior somewhat." Hermione watched her friend's jaws drop. "Well, imagine growing up your entire life in one world, and suddenly having to be ripped from that and having to live another way. And on top of that, imagine having your own world turn its back on you, completely rejecting you."

"I'd turn my back on my own world and live like a muggle then!" Ron said hotly.

"Yes but that's because you have no problem with muggles. You accept them. But imagine growing up thinking they were nothing but the dirt under your shoe, Ron. That changes things. And opinions aren't easily changed. Especially those formed early on since birth."

Harry and Ginny nodded their heads, understanding. Ron simply sat there, angry at himself for understanding where Hermione was coming from, yet not wanting to admit it because he despised Draco Malfoy.

At that moment, Molly Weasley returned with three cups of tea floating around her, and with her wand she sent them straight to Hermione, Ginny, and Harry, who took them and thanked her.

They decided to turn the subject away from Draco Malfoy and talk about themselves.

"You guys really look like siblings." Ginny observed, looking from Harry to Hermione.

"Hermione Potter." Harry laughed. He did not catch the flash of jealousy across Ron and Ginny's faces, or Hermione's look of slight disgust. Regardless of previous statements of Hermione being Harry's sister, Harry's comment sparked the thought of Hermione being Harry's wife.

They talked of Hermione's appearance and made any and all jokes possible regarding that, until it grew dark and Hermione had to leave for her apartment in the muggle world.

"Don't let the muggles get you down." Ron said to Hermione as she left.

Back in the muggle world, a very confused ex-wizard sat on a chair in his kitchen, contemplating everything that was around him. Draco Malfoy remained lost and torn between retaining pride and dignity, and surviving and contentment. To anyone else, there wasn't even a choice. Anyone who wasn't Draco Malfoy would simply accept the circumstances and live their new life. But it was not so easy for Draco. Standards and opinions had been drilled into him since he was very young and were very hard to let go.

But at that moment, a change could be sensed within the blond. He had resisted, and now, he was exhausted. Exhausted of fighting, and rejecting everything in sight. In his mind, he was already the lowest he could be, and it was not possible to go any lower. At that moment, Draco Malfoy decided that if he was to survive, he would have to learn to use muggle technology.

Reluctantly and hesitantly, Draco made his way into his bedroom, and rummaged through the closet looking for the manual Mrs. Schuler had given him. Once the manual was in his sight he froze with his hand slightly outstretched to it, contemplating if this was a step he really wanted to take.

_Only for what's necessary, _Draco thought to himself. It was the only way.

He grabbed the book, flipping through a couple pages and found a table of contents. Draco estimated about two thousand pages within the book, making it bigger than any textbook he had received during his studies at Hogwarts. _Hogwarts._ With a pang, Draco felt an immense wave of misery and longing for the school he had attended for seven years, the symbol of his wizarding education and use of his powers. He was beginning to feel sorry he ever took it all for granted, but then again it was his birthright. He was supposed to take it for granted.

Draco closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. He did not want to think about Hogwarts. It was a gateway into other things he did not wish to think about, like his mother and father. Thoughts about his family invaded the young Malfoy's mind consistently, and every time he pushed those thoughts away, because thinking of home was beyond painful. He wished the ministry had the decency to obliviate him.

Disgusted with himself for opening the revolting book and even coming to the point of learning the ways of the muggles, Draco searched the table of contents for the chapter on cooking or making food. He found a chapter labeled, _Chapter 7: The Kitchen, _and figured that everything he needed was within chapter seven. The chapter began by outlining several common kitchen objects and naming them with their uses, and then continued to delve into simple cooking techniques any muggle should know, like boiling water, and following directions on a box. Draco soon became unaware that he was lifting himself off of the floor and walking toward the kitchen, head burrowed inside the chapter of the book, reading each word with a slight twinge of curiosity and revulsion. He could not believe all the steps it took to make a simple meal, when with a wand it was all swish, flick, and done in a matter of minutes.

His stomach growled, and he found himself flipping back to a page which told him how to make pasta. Following the steps, he first located a pan, then filled it two thirds of the way with water, added salt, and found the knobs on the stove to add heat. He then waited about eight minutes for the water to boil as the book told him to. Once the water became bubbly as the chapter described, he searched his cabinets for a box containing solid yellow bowties, and dumped them inside the pot once he found it. Draco smirked to himself. This was ridiculously simple. He attributed it to the fact that muggles were dim and could not handle complicated tasks, which was why this task was so mundane. Draco Malfoy was dead wrong, but he would learn that lesson in time.

Draco watched the pasta cook with distaste laced with slight fascination. It occurred to him that he did not know when the pasta would be finished. As things in the wizarding world were made quickly, he assumed the pasta was finished by now and frantically looked through his book for the next few steps, his mouth watering in the process. Draco had only left the pasta in boiling water for a grand total of four minutes out of the 12 minutes that were needed. Unaware of this fact, he continued on, separating the pasta from the hot water and putting the pasta on a plate.

If anyone else had been watching the scene, Draco Malfoy would have looked like a rabid dog, mouth watering. With a fork in one hand, he eagerly approached his newly cooked food with much impatience and hunger. He took his fork and stabbed as much bowtie pasta as he could fit onto his fork and then proceeded to stuff the fork into his mouth and chew quickly.

The food had not been in his mouth for more than three seconds when he spit it out onto the floor, in complete disgust.

"What in Merlin—" Draco spit out the remaining bits of pasta back onto his plate in complete revulsion. "What the hell is this?!"

It was not like he imagined at all, although unbeknownst to him it was only because he hadn't cooked it properly. The pasta was still raw, and there was nothing to add flavor to it at all.

"No wonder their food is so repulsive; they don't have magic!" Draco spoke aloud to himself. He backed away from his plate as if it were cursed, with feelings of disappointment and hunger and repugnance. The only thing Draco had accomplished was to spit pasta everywhere on the floor.

He instinctively reached for his pockets with his right hand to perform a cleaning spell, his fingers clasping around an invisible wand, but when there was nothing to grab he remembered where his wand was and what happened to it. With a stab of longing and misery he sighed, at a loss of what to do. Draco had no idea how muggles cleaned up messes, or even with what. If he had spent some of his time watching his house elf perhaps he would have seen them use brooms and brushes to clean but Draco didn't mind himself with those petty things when he was younger. He was never supposed to touch any of that.

Draco made a move to grab his manual from the kitchen and look up something on cleaning but a knock at the door made him freeze. He had a notion of who it could be, although part of his mind imagined a wizard standing there, asking him to return to his world. The person knocked again. Draco hung his head, and walked toward the door, stepping over his pasta spit mess on the floor and opening the door.

"Hello!" The bright cheery face of Georgia Tanner greeted him. Her mood was a complete foil to his. He stared at her with discontentment, with half a mind to simply shut the door and walk away. Georgia Tanner however, was purposefully being bright and cheery. As she was really Hermione Granger in disguise, she had a feeling Draco Malfoy would be glum, and in her new character, it was fun to spite.

"What do you want." Draco spat out, enraged he was still talking to her. He wasn't going to admit it, but the only reason why he kept the door open was because he was lonely. And lonely was more powerful than any prejudice.

"Well, it is customary to return the plate once someone gives you food and you have finished it." Hermione Granger said to him.

For a second, Draco did not know what the muggle was talking about. Then he remembered her giving him food a while ago and devouring it seconds after she left. Draco looked to his left, and there lay her plate, on a small table.

"Here." He said, thrusting the plate toward her with such force that Georgia was forced back a couple of steps.

"Could have washed it." Hermione spat back in Georgia's voice, giving him a challenging look. "Then again you don't look like you wash anything."

"What's that supposed to mean, you filthy piece of—"

"Nothing simply observing the fact that this is what, the third time I've seen you? And you're wearing the same exact outfit. You're appearance just looks absolutely dreadful, I have half a mind to think you're starving yourself, and you have pasta on your shirt."

Draco Malfoy froze in a mixture of anger, embarrassment and disappointment in himself. How dare she insult him like that. He felt his face going red with anger—or embarrassment, he couldn't tell which. His right hand reached for that pocket once more, but his wand wasn't there. He watched the muggle's eyes eye his pocket, a mixture of confusion and intrigue in her eyes. This enraged him even more, because he was looking stupid in front of a muggle. He clenched his jaw. Then he slammed the door in her face, because there was nothing else he could do.

The worst part was that he was a sad sight even for a lowly muggle girl.

Worse than that was that she had been completely right.

Hermione Granger stood frozen at the other side of the now closed door, her nose inches away from the wood. She did not dare to move for a few seconds, clutching her plate tightly. She didn't dare breathe. Once the shock of what had happened to her settled down and melted away, guilt came to replace it, and only then was she able to move and walk back across the hall to her apartment. She placed her plate in the sink and began washing it, thinking about what had just happened. She went too far. She shouldn't had been so catty and spiteful. She had kicked him while he was down, and she felt very bad for it. She remembered the look of complete hurt in his eyes, masked quickly by anger. How was she to make him realize muggles weren't bad when she had just insulted him that way? She had made a wrong move, and she knew she had to do something about it.

"Why, Hermione? Why! You got completely carried away…" Hermione said aloud to herself, placing the plate on the drying rack and then moving to place water in the kettle to make tea. "He was just starting to assimilate too." Sighing, she placed the kettle on the stove and turned the stove on. "Now I have to go apologize to Draco Malfoy. Of all people. Ridiculous!"

Across the hall, Draco Malfoy was staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He had always been proud of his reflection. He was not only handsome but filled with pride and status and he reflected that well. Now as he looked at himself, all he could see was a teenage boy who was completely lost and at a standstill. He hated who he saw in the mirror.

"I'm a wizard, dammit. I'm a wizard." He told his reflection desperately. "I don't belong here, I don't want to be here. All I'm doing is making a fool of myself. I'm a wizard." Draco repeated the phrase, 'I'm a wizard' several times, trying to drill it into his head, because lately he was doubting it. He hoped to see something in his eyes, in his features, that would tell him that yes, he was indeed a wizard. But all he saw was a starving and desperate boy who had fallen off his high horse.

He remembered a time when he was five, and he had had a new broomstick not two weeks yet. He had ridden it all around the house, two feet off the ground but unsteady and not under control of the broom. He had fallen off many times and he was tired.

"What do we do when we fall, son?" His father asked him kindly.

"Get back up and pretend like nothing happened." Five year old Draco had replied.

"That's right. Now get back on, Draco."

But what does one do when you can't get back on? When you can't return to the status you once were? His father or mother had never taught them that. He stared at his reflection and wished more than anything his mother and father were here, or he was there. He wished he had someone of his world to endure this exile with, someone who would understand and was of his same status. But he didn't. He was all alone.

"I'm a wizard." Draco repeated again, staring at his reflection. He could see in his own eyes the disbelief, and the surrender. Was he still a wizard? He was beginning to doubt even that. "Even that filthy muggle thinks you're disgusting and dirty. How low could you sink?" Draco told himself.

_If we've fallen and can't be restored to our formal ways, then stay with your heads down. Better than to lie low than to look desperate and vulnerable to get back up,_ the voice of his father said in Draco's mind. He remembered it was something his father had said before being locked away in Azkaban, when the policy of the silver bracelets were being instituted. Instinctively, Draco looked down at his. He had had it on for so long, he had forgotten it was even on his wrist. He had gotten used to the coldness of the hard metal against his skin, to the point where he assumed it was just a part of himself.

Draco thought about those words his father had said that painful day they parted from him. His father had been right. In cases such as this it did no good to Draco to attempt to reassert himself to his former place. He had to keep his head down. He had to stay down. Draco looked into his own eyes through his reflection, seeing a few tears form around his grey eyes. He was overcome with a great feeling of déjà vu, and he immediately remembered the mirror of the broken girl's bathroom his sixth year of Hogwarts. That year he had no one to calm him but a ghost, and now, he had no one.

He had never felt so alone. So helpless.

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A/N: So, what did you guys think? I kind of feel bad for Draco. He can only stand so much. I know there isn't much Dramione happening, but there will be. I like to build it up and take my time doing so. If you liked it please leave a review, i loved reading what you guys had to say so far so please keep it coming, and as always thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: _Hello! Had a lot of free time, so I could update quicker! Hope you all enjoy!

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_Exile _Chapter Eight

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Hermione Granger stood in the hallway, fidgeting nervously and attempting to steady herself by taking deep breaths. She wiped the sweat off her palms by rubbing her hands on her jeans, and then proceeded to take another deep breath. She was frustrated with herself because this process should be easier than it was. Hermione was very nervous, constantly bringing her hand up to Malfoy's door to knock but always pulling back at the last second. Hermione Granger was hardly ever wrong or untactful; therefore she never had to apologize for being wrong or untactful. Especially to Draco Malfoy. She was nervous because she had no idea how he was going to react.

_Just do it. You're no coward. You've fought a war. You've faced tons of stuff more challenging than this, _Hermione told herself. Before she could think twice, she knocked three times on the door and froze, waiting until it opened.

"Would you bloody leave me alone? Haven't you bothered me enough?" The voice of Draco Malfoy came from inside the apartment. Hermione bit her lip and looked down at her new feet, which were one size bigger than her natural feet.

"Please, I'd just like to talk to you." Hermione called back. Her stomach was now in knots, waiting for a reply. She chose to fidget with Georgia's long black hair to pass the time.

"Don't you have friends to bother? Leave me alone!"

"Please, please just open the door and I'll be gone." Hermione said, her tone a little more pleading than she would have liked. Then again, she didn't look like herself and Malfoy had no idea she was in disguise so she didn't mind. If she was herself she would have been embarrassed to be pleading with Malfoy.

The door finally opened, revealing Draco Malfoy and his sour and dejected expression. Before talking Hermione couldn't help but notice he had put on a different outfit, and had washed his hair. She should have been glad but it only made her feel terrible, because she had a feeling it was her insult that made him do it.

"I'd like to apologize to you for yesterday." Hermione began in earnest. "I shouldn't have insulted you, it was wrong of me and I feel terrible for doing so. I had no right to point out the things I did, because I don't know who you are or where you've come from or your story, and I hope we can look past this and once again I apologize." Hermione concluded, looking into Malfoy's eyes with bravery. Of course she did know his story, and where he came from, and who he was, but she was disguised as a muggle and must play the part.

Draco Malfoy stood there, at a loss of what to say. The muggle girl's apology came as a complete surprise. He thought of shutting the door in her face again. He thought of saying thank you, but pushed that out of his mind immediately. He thought of simply nodding. He didn't know which to do.

"Point taken." Draco finally said, staring at Georgia's bright green eyes with a dry and stoic expression. He wanted nothing more than to be left alone at that point.

"Okay. I understand if you don't forgive me, I just wanted you to know that—"

"Listen I'm not going to hear your petty guilt speech just because you want to make yourself feel better. You're making blast-ended screwts out of floppy worms, just leave me alone, okay?" Draco Malfoy said impatiently, a hint of threat in his voice.

Hermione froze.

"I'm making what?" She stuttered. She knew very well he had just let slip an old wizarding expression, like the muggle equivalent to 'making mountains out of molehills.' If he had noticed and she let it slide it would be very suspicious to him that a muggle wouldn't find it weird.

Draco Malfoy froze as well, searching his mind frantically for an explanation for his careless slip.

"Nothing." He said finally. "Just an old expression my mother used to say."

"Weird expression. Never heard of it." Hermione replied, giving a nervous chuckle.

Draco just nodded, hoping that if he didn't reply that the muggle would just leave.

"Well since you won't take my apology, can you at least let me make it up to you somehow?" Georgia spoke, flashing her green eyes hopefully. Draco's hand clenched the doorframe.

"Do you people have no concept of what it means when another person wants to be left alone? Do not knock at my door. Do not speak to me. Do not apologize. Do not cook for me. I do not want anything from you. I want to be left alone. Do you understand? Does any of this ring a bell in that puny little head of yours?!" Draco Malfoy exploded, speaking as if the muggle were a small idiot child who spoke no English. His eyes flashed dangerously and he clenched his jaw again, wishing he had his wand to blast her into oblivion.

Hermione only regarded Malfoy smartly behind Georgia's green eyes, a small smile upon her lips. This enraged Draco even more, but before he had the chance to hurl every insult he knew at her, Hermione opened her mouth and spoke in a clever and observant tone.

"I've watched your hand clench on that door a total of seven times since you first opened it. That tells me, you thought of closing the door, but something held you back. You'd like to think you want to be left alone, but the truth is, you don't. Because you're very lonely. It's just you in this apartment of yours and the only human contact you have is me, and as annoying as I may be it's still something to you, isn't it. And perhaps you think that if you close that door, I will never come again, and that means you will truly, truly be alone. So yes, I do understand. I am perfectly capable of understanding your wishes but you see I know better than to listen to what you're outwardly expressing."

Draco stood there, staring at this muggle girl with an incredulous look upon his face for several seconds. Out of spite, he simply shut the door in her face with one swift move, and locked it loudly for good measure. Then he proceeded to sit on his couch, wondering why her observation had angered him so much.

On the other side of the door, stood a surprised Hermione Granger disguised as a muggle girl, whose jaw was wide open. She stood, confused and stunned by the recent turn of events.

"Fine. Have it your way." Hermione said under her breath, quickly turning on her heel and heading for her own apartment.

"She's wrong. Absolutely wrong." Draco muttered to himself with pride and indignation. He passed back and forth in his living room, knowing deep down Georgia had been right, yet his pride kept him from truly accepting it. Draco's pride and stubbornness kept him from moving forward in situations like these. If he had come to accept the fact that he would have to live like a muggle, and make attempts to endorse their lifestyle, Draco's life would have been much easier. It was hard for him to do that, however, considering the life that he had come from and the ways in which he had been raised.

The next couple weeks, Draco spent in total isolation. No muggle girl came knocking on his door. He had not spoken to anyone but himself, and had been reduced to a sad existence filled with failed attempts to cook and eat something of substance.

On Monday, Draco slept well into the afternoon, and decided to try his hand at making muggle breakfast as his stomach was intolerable. According to his handbook, it stated that muggles usually had eggs and orange juice for breakfast. Seeing as he had all the ingredients in what he learned was called a refrigerator, he began to make scrambled eggs. He ended up overcooking the eggs and heating them at a high temperature, as well as forgetting to add salt and pepper for taste. Draco was so hungry he made a huge effort to keep the food in his mouth, and he was relieved when it was over. He could not believe muggle food tasted this bad.

Meanwhile, Hermione spent her time reading, cooking, surfing the web, walking about the block and visiting a local park, eating out, watching movies, and taking bubble baths.

On Tuesday, Draco had about the same schedule, making the same eggs and attempting once more not to spit them out. He remembered being served eggs in the wizarding world, and he didn't remember them tasting that badly. He supposed it was because the eggs he made were cooked without magic. He spent the rest of the day in isolation, doing nothing, and refusing to use any muggle means of entertainment. He thought briefly of Georgia, and thought it was great that she wasn't annoying him anymore, although Draco wasn't sure about the truth in that statement.

Across the hall, Hermione went about her business, deciding her apartment was a little too dusty for her taste. She decided to clean it. When she was done, she took a long walk outside, and encountered a homeless kitten that followed her home.

On Wednesday, Draco Malfoy felt a routine coming on: Wake up, go to the bathroom, cook disgusting eggs, spend the rest of the day thinking about what life he was leading and what he was going to do. He began to accept Georgia's statement, and see he was lonely. He began to think constantly of his mother and father, his wand, his magic, even Harry Potter and his two friends, the mudblood and weasel. He needed a distraction, and he realized that perhaps Georgia was it. Draco Malfoy needed someone to channel his anger to. Someone he hated. Someone like Georgia.

Concurrently, Hermione decided to name her kitten Tigger, after her favorite character in the Winnie the Pooh series, and because her kitten was white with grey stripes. She decided to watch a movie with her new companion, and briefly wondered about Malfoy. Part of her wanted to check on him because it was her job to do so, and another part wanted nothing to do with him. According to her charms and spells that she had set around the perimeter of his home, he had not attempted to escape, so she pushed him from her mind.

On Thursday, Draco had an epiphany upon waking up with a start in the middle of the night. It was quite a simple thought, though it changed his mindset and way of thinking permanently. The thought was very simply the fact that Draco Malfoy was stuck in the muggle world, living like a muggle, behaving like a muggle, and interacting like a muggle _forever._ He had known this, on a very superficial level, but never once had he incorporated it into his being. He was stuck there. Stuck eating magicless food, stuck in a small apartment with no one to interact with. Stuck forever wondering about his mother and father, and the world which he was born into. He had nothing left. Nothing to fight for, but his own pride.

Later on in the morning, Hermione began to wonder if she was in fact doing the right thing in leaving Draco Malfoy alone. She knew the state he was in, and how vulnerable and inexperienced he was. She fought an internal war with herself, torn between going over to him and keeping him company, and staying in her apartment to spite him. The only thing to calm her and postpone her making a decision was Romeo, who purred against her leg demanding to be petted.

On Friday, Draco was at his lowest point ever. Previous echoes of 'I'm a wizard' were now shattered. In the dark corners of his mind, he could hear himself muttering 'I'm a muggle.' He stayed in bed all day, refusing to eat, drink, or move. He had been stripped of everything, and completely alone. What would his mother think? His father? Everyone who had ever known him? He was glad no one could see the pitiful mess he was.

During the same day, Hermione would eye the door subconsciously ever chance she got. She wondered what Malfoy was doing, and hoped it wasn't anything dangerous. She wanted badly to make him realize this exile wasn't bad. But Hermione had pride as well, and thus she never opened that door.

On Saturday, Draco became a bit more positive, although still down. He got up, went to the bathroom, ate disgusting eggs, tried to stop thinking about a world he could not enter, made an undercooked lunch, tried not to spit it out, and took a nap. He wished desperately to interact with humanity; wished Georgia would knock on his door to say anything.

During that time, Hermione's spirits began to lift as well. The next day was Sunday and she would be able to visit her friends at the Burrow and get caught up on what was happening. She read some more, watched movies, took walks, and was too busy to think about the lonely boy across the hall.

When Sunday came, Draco realized all of his clothes had been used and needed to be washed. The handbook stated that he required something called a washing machine, but he had not found it anywhere in his apartment. He read the paragraph again, and came across a sentence that said apartments generally had washing machines in the basement.

Draco froze.

He had to step outside of his apartment in order to wash his clothes. Outside, in the muggle world. With muggles.

A half hour passed by before he could muster up the courage to open his door, and step outside, having taken all the necessary soaps and detergents needed.

Simultaneously, Hermione had been thinking along the same lines as Draco. She could have easily pulled her wand out and cleaned her clothes, but she was not allowed to perform magic in the muggle world. She could have taken them to the Burrow, but she didn't want to burden Molly with such things. Besides, she didn't fancy Molly looking at Hermione's underwear. Hermione imagined Arthur would be interested in muggle clothing however.

The only thing left to do, was to wash them the muggle way. Hermione was pretty excited, as she hadn't done laundry since she lived at home with her parents. She took a basket with all her dirty clothes and her detergents and soaps of choice and went downstairs.

Hermione walked down the stairs and turned right into a hallway, which led into the basement/laundry room. She was startled to find someone already there, and even more so when she recognized the blond hair.

Draco Malfoy was standing in front of the washing machines, hunched over something like a book, flipping pages frantically, while his basket of clothes laid to his left.

"Do… you need help?" Hermione asked, subtly taken by surprise because of her voice. She had not spoken to anyone in days, and had forgotten momentarily that her voice was now Georgia's voice.

Draco jumped and turned around in one move, placing the book he was holding behind his back so that Hermione could not see it. Hermione tried everything she could to hold back a laugh.

"Oh. It's—It's you" Draco said, at a complete loss of what to do. He was extremely nervous. He would have to do laundry in front of a muggle, and he did not know what he was doing. It would definitely result in being made fun of.

"Yeah." Hermione said simply. "Just… doing laundry."

Draco simply nodded. He did not want to come off as if he was desperate to talk to someone, or that he didn't know what he was doing. He set his book face down on an unused dryer so that she could not read the tittle. Then he opened the machine, remembering some of what he had read in the chapter on washing.

Hermione sighed and began her business. She knew Draco would be watching her, trying to learn what she was doing and mimic it, so she made sure to go slow and be obvious with her movements. She opened the washing machine and put some detergent inside. Draco did the same. She then began to put her clothes inside the machine, leaving the whites inside the basket.

"You may not want to do that." Hermione cautioned, seeing Draco put whites with colors inside the machine.

"I wasn't." Draco said in a mixture of uncertainty and assertiveness. He did an awkward movement, trying to put clothes back into the basket, but he wasn't quite sure of what the muggle meant. He felt his face become hot.

"Stop, stop, stop." Hermione said, pausing what she was doing to help the wizard boy. "You look like a rich boy trying to do laundry for the first time." Hermione said purposefully. She saw Draco freeze momentarily, alarmed by the relevance in the muggle girl's statement.

"That's because I am." Draco said quickly, using that as an excuse. Draco was very intelligent, and inferred that rich muggles did not do tasks such as laundry and hence they might not cook their own food, or know how to do other simple muggle tasks. He felt relieved for the excuse, and content that it wasn't at all a lie. He stepped away from the muggle contraptions and let Georgia take over, separating the whites and the colors and putting the colors into one machine, and the whites into another.

"That explains a lot, actually." She said, busy separating laundry.

"Like what?"

"Like the fact that you seem extremely unhappy where you are. You don't know how to do your own laundry, and I don't think you can cook, quite frankly." Hermione said coyly as she began pouring detergent into the machine. Everything she said had a purpose, and at the moment she wanted Malfoy to have an excuse for his being there.

Draco did not say anything. He was busy thinking about the fact that perhaps rich muggles didn't live so differently from how he lived in the wizarding world. They didn't seem to know how to do anything he did, for starters.

"Can I ask why you're living here?" Hermione said, tucking her long black hair behind her ear. "Like, did you lose all your money? Run away? What happened?"

Draco stood behind Georgia, deep in thought.

"It's complicated. I don't quite know how it all happened." Draco said vaguely. He had no idea what would constitute as a muggle reason for leaving wealth.

"Oh. Okay." Hermione said simply. "Well look, this is what I did." Hermione changed the subject, beckoning Malfoy forward so he could see how she set up his laundry. Draco stepped forward. "You have to separate colors and whites, or else some of the color can drain onto the whites. You don't want to put in a white shirt and have it come out red. Also, it's a good idea to separate delicates as well. You don't want to mix underwear with jeans. Do that and you'll be fine. Then add soap. Then you close the lid," As Hermione finished saying the last word, she did so, "And then set it to medium water temperature," Hermione pressed the medium heat button, "And click start." Hermione clicked the start button. "It's that simple."

"I can figure it out for myself, thanks. I don't need a muggle to help me figure things out." Draco said stubbornly, not wanting to let on that he needed her help. He also did not want to admit it to himself that he had just been taught something by a muggle.

"You obviously needed the help." Hermione said, growing frustrated with Malfoy's pride. She was beginning to think there was no way around that annoying quality of his. Hermione sighed, deciding that arguing with him wasn't going to get her anywhere. "Listen, I'm just trying to help you out here. I would do the same for anyone else. I don't know why you're here or what you may be running from, but you're here, and that's that. Make the most of it. You're obviously alone, and have no one else, as harsh as that sounds. Push your pride aside and start fresh. No one is watching, and no one knows who you are, so I don't know what stubborn pride is going to get you."

Draco stood there a moment, at a loss of what to say. The words were so relevant and straightforward, it was hard to make a comeback. The only thing he had to rely on was his bubbling frustration.

"How dare you make an assumption about me! It's not about me, or a refusal to begin again, it's about where I am, and the world I am in. I don't want to be here. I deserve and I am better than this pigsty! So why don't you shut up instead of prancing about like an insufferable know-it-all?!" Draco spat indignantly, red in the face. He clenched his fists by his sides, wishing his wand was in his pocket.

"Well maybe if you stopped that snooty pretentious little attitude of yours you'd be able to see this isn't bad at all and it's actually quite nice! But no! You're absolutely set and stubborn in your ways! You're never going to be happy that way." Hermione rushed out, furiously stuffing her laundry into the machine and slamming the lid shut.

"What is there to like about here?! Absolutely nothing! I don't belong here, and I'm not even supposed to be here! The only reason I'm even still talking to you is because I've nothing better to do!" Draco replied heatedly, rushing his words out before being able to think about them. Hermione had never seen his face so red. She did not want him to become too angry, in case he used accidental magic.

"There's a lot to like about here, if you just take the time to see it. Different doesn't mean bad, or boring. It's just different. It's not less than any other thing. The sooner you learn that the better off you'll be." Hermione said quietly and calmly. She thought it best to leave the conversation there, and so she grabbed her detergent and everything else she brought down and walked past Draco Malfoy, and back up the stairs to her apartment.

Draco let her walk past, unmoving, shocked at how much truth rang in her words.

The muggle seemed to understand exactly what he meant.

* * *

A/N: Please give me your thoughts! What do you think so far? I hope you all like it, and thank you all for reading! Thank you for those who left reviews, I love them and appreciate them! Please review this chapter if you'd like!


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